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#needless to say i resent that way of thinking

aphroditelovesu · 10 months

Note

I'm so glad you write for shadow and bone now! can i request yandere the darkling/ Alexander Morozova with a reader who is not grisha? it can be platonic or romantic..your choice ��

''You are my salvation.'' - Darkling.

❝ ✟ — lady l: I just wanted to say that I am completely hungry for content from this man and I hope you guys like how I wrote this headcanon ❤️❤️.

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of death and torture, mildly suggestive, unhealthy romantic relationship.

❝✟pairing: yandere!darkling/aleksander morozova x otkazat’sya!reader.

Aleksander didn't like that at first. He didn't hate you, he hated the fact that you were mortal, an otkazat'sya, but not you, never you. Perhaps he resents the fact that you're human, but he didn't hate you. He could never hate you no matter what you did.

He met you by pure coincidence for you, but for him it was fate. Destiny, maybe the Saints, brought you to him. You were the newest cartographer in the Second Army and you were still getting used to it all, being in the army and with the grishas. You didn't hate them, but you couldn't say you loved them, you were neutral towards them.

There was nothing special about you. Just another mortal serving the military like most did. You didn't hate being a cartographer, but you couldn't say you loved it. It was your duty and that was it. Aleksander has paid attention to you since your first day, but you haven't noticed General Kirigan's curious and terrifying gazes on you.

He was content to just watch you from the shadows for a while. Learning everything he could about you that he could later use to get closer to you. You totally missed his looks, the way he seemed to devour you. He was the General and you were a simple cartographer, there would hardly be any interaction between the two of you. But there was, and he was hungry for more.

The first real interaction the two of you had was during a cold night at the military camp. You couldn't sleep and decided to take a walk, late at night and when most soldiers and grishas were asleep. Except you and him. You sat in a secluded spot and shivered in the cold. When a blanket was draped over your shoulders, you looked up to the one who gave it to you to thank them and found Aleksander's mesmerizing eyes watching you intently.

Aleksander never forgot your shy look and lowered head, as if you were too scared to speak to him. He never forgot your calm, low voice when you thanked him for the blanket, as if it was the only act of kindness you had ever received in your whole life. And he found himself wanting more, desperately wanting to hear your voice and the sweet sounds you could make. He didn't understand why he was so attracted to you, he hated the otkazat'sya, so why did he see himself wanting your attention and love?

He didn't understand his feelings for you, how desperately he wanted to protect and care for you. He's never felt this way before about anyone but himself. Aleksander just knew that he wanted you, that he needed you with him one way or another. He desperately needed you and he didn't know why, but that only you had to be his. And you would be his.

He's extremely overprotective of you, but how could he not be? You were so young, so helpless and so human. It was his duty to look after you to make sure you were well cared for and fed. Needless to say that you would get the best rooms, the best clothes and the best food. No one can even think of inflicting any harm on you, whether human or grisha, they all know you are off limits and must be protected or they will suffer the Darkling's wrath. And his wrath is not taken lightly, especially when you're involved.

Aleksander adores you, he loves you, or so he believes, but he hated your humanity. He hated that he was deeply involved with an otkazat'sya, but eventually he came to see the advantage in it. You weren't grisha, you couldn't defend yourself against him or run away if those were yours wishes, you were at his mercy and he grew to like that very much. You were in his hands as much as he was in yours, and he loved that. You belonged to him and he could do what he wanted with you, shape you any way he wanted and he wouldn't have to worry about you rebelling against him. At least that's how he thinks.

He'll manipulate you with no qualms, whispering sweet words in your ear as he worships your body and the next moment he's pouring venom into your ear, saying things like how perfect you are, how you should never leave his side. How he is the only one who loves you and who will take care of you for your whole life. How you were made for each other and no one deserves you more than him. You must always remain loyal to him and he will give you the world if you ask him to.

You became everything to him as you grew closer and closer. Aleksander will become more and more obsessive and possessive of you. He won't like it one bit if someone flirts with you, otkazat'sya or grisha, you're his and he won't let anyone steal you from him. He will show no mercy to anyone, destroying them in horrible ways, to set an example to anyone who has bad intentions towards you. You are his and he is his.

This isn't how you planned your love story with General Kirigan to go, but you're too wrapped up in his clutches, in his promises of love, to realize how wrong it is. You were so in love with him that you never noticed or cared about anything but him and the manipulations and horrors he will commit in the name of love. None of that will matter because you're together. An otkazat'sya and a grisha together forever. It would be you against the world and Aleksander will be your only company, the only one you will ever need.

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mononijikayu · 21 days

Text

water is fine — ryomen sukuna.

You tried to fight, over and over. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t want to drown. But against your little body, the force of the water was one that it could not fight. The water enveloped you, pulling you down into its depths. You felt your eyes starting to close. You felt like you were losing your soul. All you could think about was your brother. How you had to come back, because he’d be looking for you.

GENRE: Heian Era to Shibuya Arc, 2018;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Romance, Emotional Hurt, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining, Domesticity, Friends to Lovers, Character Death, Grief, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Mental Anguish, Depiction of Violence, Depiction of Harm, Depiction of Blood and Wounds, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Harm, Portrayal of Misogynist And Degrading Acts and Language;

masterlist

ashes of love

song: water is fine by chloe ament.

note: this was longer than i wanted to be, but it took longer because i was waiting for this one to be beta read by a friend. they loved this chapter and they got curious so asked about my plans moving forward. and needless to say, i feel like im gege akutami!!! please enjoy the chapter~ i'll see you in the next one!!! i love you~

YOU WERE THERE AGAIN. You were happy to admit that you hated it. In the dark embrace of the night, Ryomen You found that it was like being transported back to yesterday. It felt like yesterday. to one of the most harrowing summers of your life—that horrible, bloody, summer.

You think you’d never forget the most eventful day of your young life. But dreams were either tender to the righteous and suffering to a sinner. Truth be told, you had always considered yourself a sinner. Because if you were not, the gods would not be willing to punish you. You would not be atoning. Otherwise, nii-sama would still be alive and well.

The Ryomen clan, though not as prominent as the Fujiwara, held an ancient lineage that commanded respect within the world of jujutsu. Their roots ran deep, intertwined with the very fabric of history, marking them as a force to be reckoned with despite their relatively smaller stature compared to the Fujiwara. It was a legacy that had been upheld through generations, nurtured by the strength of their traditions and the power of their bloodline.

Yet, for all their strength, the Ryomen clan had always found themselves at odds with the Fujiwara. The two families had a long and tumultuous history, marked by countless conflicts and rivalries that had spanned centuries. From minor skirmishes to full-blown wars, their animosity had left scars that ran deep, staining the fabric of their shared past with bloodshed and bitterness.

It was in this turbulent landscape that you and your brother had been raised, caught between the echoes of ancient feuds and the weight of familial duty. Your parents had sought to end the cycle of violence through marriage, forging an alliance that had brought temporary peace between the warring clans. But beneath the veneer of unity lay a marriage that was anything but equal, a union marred by resentment and unfulfilled expectations.

In truth, you had grown up in the shadow of your parents' strained relationship, in this consistent suffering of shouting matches and unpleasantries. Your life, your whole upbringing was shaped by your father's unconditional love and your mother's cold indifference. It was a dichotomy that had left its mark on you, molding you into a woman of strength and resilience, yet burdened by the weight of familial legacy.

Perhaps it was why you had grown up never knowing why your mother was that way. Until you had visited her grandfather’s fief for the first time, You had your eyes opened. Your mother’s cold eyes were the same as your old grandfather’s eyes. And it terrified you. It made your skin crawl. Father hated the trip as much as you and Akimu did. Uncle Hiramu hated everyone of mother’s kin too easily. Still, it was keeping the peace. They swallowed their pride, they swallowed their anger and their fears and moved forward.

You and your brother had continued to uphold the tradition of annual visits to their Fujiwara relatives over the years. It was a tradition born out of duty rather than genuine affection. Each visit was rigid and cold. But it reminded both of them that the fragile truce that hung between their families was like a delicate thread. Each visit was fraught with tension, a delicate dance of diplomacy and restraint as they navigated the complex web of familial politics and ancient grudges. You had loathed all of it. You didn’t want it all. But having Akimu there to hold your hand, it was enough to keep your breath.

But it was that summer where their lives changed.

The child that is within you would not know it just yet.

There was no more fighting against their written fates.

Akimu, dutiful and ever responsible, had obligations that required him to travel later than the rest of their family. As heir, Akimu had ventured out from the manor walls and into the wider bounty of the Ryomen lands. He collected taxes, he dealt with disputes, he dealt with the curses — all on behalf of their father. This time would not be divorced from that day to day. Akimu bowed steadily at the chōdō-in in front of all the spectators and smiled handsomely as a prince would. He was to be sent to collect the taxes across the lands and follow to the summer manor of the Fujiwara.

You were not eager to let your beloved brother journey alone, rushed in front of the crowd and bowed in front of their father. You could laugh. You think you must have looked so foolish then. You begged their father to let you accompany him. Akimu’s face lit up with joy at the prospect of traveling with you, protective and proud as he was. You often think that he will only smile like that for you. That you knew then. But you will never know Akimu to have a chance to shine his smile upon someone else. If there had been someone.

In the spacious, sunlit parlor of the Ryomen family estate, young you found your father and uncle seated together, poring over some scrolls and maps laid out on a large table. The air was filled with the weight of responsibility, as decisions made here often steered the fate of your clan. With a mixture of determination and a childlike hopefulness in your eyes, you approached, your mind set on joining your brother Akimu nii–sama on his later journey.

“Father,” You started, your voice carrying a rehearsed tone of earnestness, “I’ve been thinking a lot about my nii–sama and his trip alone to the Fujiwara clan...”

Your uncle looked up, a small softening on his features. “And what thoughts have you had, my little lady?” he inquired, already anticipating the nature of his niece’s reflections.

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. “I want to go with him. I want to join Akimu on his journey, not just travel later with you and the others.”

Your father raised an eyebrow, setting down his brush. “It’s a long journey, You. And Akimu will be busy with his duties on the way. It won’t be a leisurely visit. I do not want you to disturb him, little one.”

“But I won’t be in the way, I promise!” Your voice took on a pleading tone, your youthful eagerness to be near your brother shining through. “I can help him! I’ve been learning maps and history. I can read it for him too! I... I just don’t want him to be alone.”

Your uncle exchanged a glance with your father, a silent conversation passing between them. “Little lady, it’s not just about being alone. It’s a matter of your safety and well-being,” your uncle explained, your voice gentle yet firm. “You are too important, little lady.”

Your shoulders slumped, but you weren’t ready to give up. You moved closer, your expression morphing into one of heartfelt moping. “Please, I’ll be careful. I’ll stay close to Akimu–nii and the guards. And... and I miss him. When he’s gone, who will teach me to hold a sword at dawn? Who will tell me stories of the stars?”

Seeing you so earnest and feeling the genuine longing in your words, your father sighed, the resistance in his eyes softening. “You’ll miss your brother that much, hm?”

You nodded vigorously, your eyes wide with hope.

Your father rubbed his chin, pondering. Then he looked at his brother, seeking his counsel without words. After a moment, your uncle snickered and just urged his brother with his smile. He nodded slightly, giving a subtle approval.

“Alright, my darling.” your father finally said, a reluctant smile breaking through his serious demeanor. “You can join Akimu’s trip. But you must promise to follow his lead and stay out of trouble. You must be helpful to your onii-sama.”

A bright, beaming smile exploded across You’s face. “Yes, Father! I promise! I’ll be so careful, and I’ll make sure Akimu–nii isn’t alone!”

As you joyously hugged your father and then your uncle who giggled at your joy, your heart swelled with excitement and gratitude. Not only would you be able to keep your beloved brother company, but you also felt a step closer to the adventures you had always dreamed about, now unfolding into reality.

When you found Akimu–nii-sama later that day in the training grounds, practicing his swordsmanship with a focus that seemed to cut through the very air around him, your steps quickened with excitement. You waited for him to complete his sequence, watching as his blade danced in the sunlight. He was so beautiful, such a perfect beacon of home for the future. You hopes that she can be worthy of serving her brother one day. You hope to be worthy of being his servant.

As he finished and wiped the sweat from his brow, You approached, barely containing your enthusiasm. "Akimu–nii!" you called out, your voice echoing slightly in the open space.

Akimu turned, his expression shifting from concentration to curiosity at the sight of his sister’s beaming face. "My little You? What brings you here with such a smile? I thought you still had lessons, hm?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face as he sensed your excitement. “Did you escape your lessons again?”

“I did not!” You pouted at her elder brother, who laughed. “I stayed, like you bid me.”

“Good girl.” He whispered, kneeling to your height and kissing your cheek. “Now, why are you so eager to run out here in the heat and endure your nii-sama and his sweatiness?”

"I asked uncle and father if I could join you on your trip, the one where we visit grandfather Fuji to the Fujiwara clan. And they said yes!" You exclaimed, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet. “I’ll read a lot of your maps, nii-sama! I promise, we will not be lost!”

Akimu's eyes widened in surprise, a mixture of joy and slight concern flickering through them. "Really? You’re coming with me?" he asked, as if needing confirmation for such unexpected but welcome news. “I thought you were going to be with mother and father, little one.”

"Yes!" You nodded vigorously. "I convinced them. I told them I could help, and I promised to be good and follow all the rules."

A warm laugh escaped Akimu, and he opened his arms, inviting You into a hug. As she rushed into his embrace, he lifted her slightly off the ground, her laughter mingling with his. "That’s fantastic! I was dreading the long ride alone, and now I’ll have my favorite sister to keep me company," he said, setting her back down. “My precious little one is after all the smartest girl in the world.”

You blushed. “But I am your only sister, nii-sama.”

“But that makes you the very best one, doesn’t it? You are my only most treasured little sister.”

You’s heart swelled with pride and happiness, knowing her brother was genuinely pleased to have her along. "I can learn so much from you on the way, and maybe I can even help with some of your duties," she suggested, eager to make herself useful.

Akimu set his hand on your shoulder, his expression turning serious. "I’m sure you will, You. But remember, this trip isn’t just about learning; it’s also about being vigilant. We’ll be traveling through some unsettled territories," he cautioned, the protective brother always at the forefront. “Most of all, nii-sama will be busy on this trip too. You must keep close to me at all times, hm? I must keep you safe, little one.”

You nodded solemnly, understanding the weight of his words. "I’ll be careful, I promise. And I’ll follow your lead."

Akimu smiled, reassured by your earnestness. "I know you will. And we’ll make sure to have some fun along the way, too," he added, the twinkle returning to his eye.

But lurking in the shadows of your path were dangers you had not foreseen. Unknown to you, malevolent eyes watched, waiting for the opportunity to strike. You, despite your youth, were already seen as a valuable asset in the political games of higher clans—your hand in marriage, a prize that could sway the balance of power. Being the only daughter of the Ryomen lord, it was a battle on who should be your spouse. From the moment you were born to the cradle, your fate was sealed. It would be a disaster or it would be glorious.

For after all, the Ryomen clan's renown for producing potent sorcerers made you even more desirable. If their sons would father a child with you as soon as possible, then the creation of stronger sorcerer blood would be cemented. Everyone knew this. Most of all, Akimu, who was careful to conceal his sister’s cursed energy from the rest of the world on this delicate trip.

As you traveled, it was peaceful at first. You went from tenant to tenant and gathered the lord’s coin from them. You enjoyed playing with common children in each village, abundant in the smiles of youth. Akimu enjoyed seeing his sister be a lively child. It was often hard to see such a thing at home, more so with their mother being unkind to you. Mother disliked You. Akimu did not know why. But he knew that You deserved to be loved. For his sister was born to be a soul that thrived on being loved.

But on that same route, you stopped because of the night. Everyone was exhausted with the pace you had settled on. It had been non-stop traveling which left little rest for all. More so, Akimu could see how his sister was fatigued by it all. If you kept up with the speed, you would certainly catch a chill. And you wouldn’t be able to perform well in front of their mother’s kin. That would not do. And so, you camped under the stars, ate a bountiful meal for the night, sang some songs and went to bed.

It was then at midnight that a group of powerful cursed users came upon the camp with all their might and staged a barrage of their powers to ambush you. The attackers were ruthless, their intent clear as they overpowered the Ryomen guards and soldiers with terrifying efficiency. One after another, the campsite was filled with screams and horrors.

Body after body, blood after blood, you screamed with your eyes wide open as your protector died one after the other. A man was coming for you. Hand tightly, brutishly— wrapped around your little body, you screamed. You felt fear pierce you for the first time. You felt tears pour out. But an arrow hit before he could do anything. You felt yourself cry out loud. Women or men, children or adults, they died before you. Died over and over again.

Your brother’s eyes tightened as he slew one enemy after another to get to you. You were a sobbing mess as Akimu checked you for injuries. But all he found was your grief and your horror, and the red pool straining your white silk kimono. He hushed you, pulling you into a hidden corner and tried to comfort you. But it was hard. His sister could not stop crying, could not stop thinking about how you were powerless. You sobbed in his arms, kept whispering apologies one after the other. He silenced you and kissed your temple.

“It’s okay.” He whispered to you, brushing your hair with his unstained hand. “It’s not your fault. It’s okay.”

Ryomen Akimu, brave and fierce, stood his ground once more as new enemies clashed against him one after another. He was fighting with a desperation born of the need to protect his sister. As he slew the last one, he took a deep breath. He looked around and saw that others were preoccupied, fighting for their lives. Flames engulfed the camp. He cannot fail here. Not here. Not when you were in danger.

Amidst the chaos, he turned to you, his voice strained with urgency. "Run to the river, get away from here! Don’t come back!" he pleaded. Your heart shattered with each word, tears streaming down your face as the reality of your fate crashed down upon you. “Please, let me do this, okay? I’ll come for you. I promise!”

With a heavy heart, you ran with tears in your eyes. You could hear your brother's final cries echoing in your ears as you sprinted towards the river. You tried to turn back but you could only gasp as you continued into the river. The water was high, unusually high. But you could not think of anything why. You were concerned about survival. About nii–sama. About their clan folk dying. The cruelty of it all.

Hitching breath lumped at your throat as you ran and ran, still, even as your legs resisted the water’s pressure. The cold, cruel water roared beside you, swollen from the summer rains, a tumultuous escape route that mirrored the turmoil in your heart. These cursed users gave a brutal chase, their dark magic swirling around them like a malevolent storm.

Exhausted, terrified, and overwhelmed, You could not help but strangle in a scream as you stumbled into the river. It was frightening, your body could not react any longer. There was no escape. You couldn’t escape. How you now couldn’t breathe. It felt like your body was burning. It felt like your throat was on fire. Everything was frightening, pulling and pushing. It all hurts.

It hurts.

As you sank deeper and deeper, a strange, otherworldly voice reached out to you.

"What do you desire, child of Ryomen?" it asked, resonating through the water. “What does a child like you seek, before a god?”

Terror mixed with a fierce, brushing against the river’s cold weave —burning anger within you. If this was a different circumstance, there would be a different wish. There would be a joyous wish. A child’s longing. But as you lose your consciousness to the pressure of the water, you feel yourself burn with something else.

"Revenge," you gasped, your lungs filling with water, your voice a drowning whisper. "I want revenge."

The voice, deep and resonant, seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, filling the murky depths that surrounded you. It paused, as if considering your answer, the silence stretching into eternity as you struggled against the pull of the river.

"Revenge is a heavy burden for such young shoulders," the voice continued, its tone neither approved nor condemning. Rather, intrigued. "But if it is revenge you seek, child of Ryomen, it shall be granted. However, the path you choose will change you forever. Are you prepared to accept the consequences? To serve me?”

Your mind raced, panic and determination warring within her. You knew the weight of your request, but the loss of your kinfolk, the horror of your brother still fighting for his life, for your life, the agony of it all—they fueled that burning resolve.

"Yes," you managed to choke out, determination collared on your voice. "I accept."

Then, just as suddenly as the nightmare began to unfold, you shook and awoke, your body drenched in sweat, your breaths ragged with fear and anguish. The room was dark, save for the soft light of the moon streaming through the window. Beside you was your beloved, wiping your tears away. Sukuna, who had returned from his late training, stirred, immediately sensing your distress.

Without a word, he reached for you, pulling your trembling body into his arms. His presence was grounding, a solid reality you clung to amidst the remnants of your haunting dream.

"I'm here, night flower. I’m here.” Sukuna murmured, his voice a soothing balm. One that you think you will never deserve. "You're safe."

As you look at him, your face contorts into a silent sob. You buried your face in his chest, the tears came freely, each drop a release of the pent-up fear and sorrow that the dream had stirred. Sukuna held you tenderly, his arms becoming a fortress against the lingering shadows of the past, his heartbeat a steady drum that anchored you back to the safety of the present.

In his embrace, the horrors of that fateful summer day gradually receded, replaced by the warmth and security that his presence always brought. Though the pain of the loss would never fully fade, with Sukuna by your side, You found the strength to face the remnants of your nightmares, in their quiet echoes. You knew that you weren’t alone anymore. These nightmares won’t hurt you anymore.

And so you cried and cried, his fingers tracing your hair.

You could feel the echo of morning light come through.

It will all be alright. Everything will be well from now on.

Ryomen Sukuna was there to chase the nightmares away.

SPRING WAS ALWAYS A BEAUTIFUL TIME. The morning sun bathed the Ryomen manor gardens in a soft, ethereal light, casting a tranquil spell over the lush surroundings. The koi ponds shimmered with reflected sunlight, their waters alive with vibrant hues of orange and pink. The gentle rustle of cherry blossom trees filled the air, accompanied by the distant melody of birdsong.

For you, it was a rare moment of respite amidst the flurry of activity that heralded the upcoming unity games. As preparations for the arrival of the visiting clans unfolded throughout the manor, you found solace in the quiet beauty of the garden. Leaning against the sturdy trunk of an ancient tree, you closed your eyes and let out a soft sigh, allowing the peaceful ambiance to wash over her.

You watch as a bird sits by the water's edge, the soft murmurs of the ponds mingling with the rustle of leaves in the breeze. The bird hums, looking back at you with a curious gaze. That was a new one. But it was quite clever, a witty little bird. The little bird was composing a hymn. You couldn’t help but smile at the sweet tones for a moment. It sounded almost like a tender flute to dance to.

You think you could get used to this. It was a well deserved rest, after what has been happening. Your nightmares have been keeping you awake most nights, terrorizing you over and over again. But each time, Sukuna was there.

It was plain to you that now, you cannot truly live without him or his love. You wanted him. You wanted nothing but him. And he knew that too well. Sukuna lay with his head nestled in your lap, his eyes closed in a rare moment of stillness. You couldn't help but notice the exhaustion etched into his features, the subtle lines of tension that lingered even in repose. He hadn't slept much, you realized with a pang of concern.

In his restless nights consumed by the weight of his responsibilities. More than that, he had been obsessed with his new developments in his sorcery. You would have scolded him. But you do not have the heart to. You were happy he was there with you, from dusk till dawn, holding his hand as he wrapped his arms around you.

Gently, you let your fingers trail through Sukuna's hair, offering what little comfort you could. You knew how tirelessly he had been training for the curse hunt and the upcoming matches, his dedication unwavering even in the face of exhaustion. Your father had entrusted him with the honor of representing the clan and with your uncle’s own encouragement and your pride, Ryomen Sukuna accepted without another word.

Though, he would have expressed another word had he not been respectful to your presence. He did not like Masaomi. But having to sit alongside Mikoto Masaomi as he too was chosen as the clan’s champion, it was obvious his disdain was evident. But you couldn’t blame him. He was often jealous, with how close you and Masaomi are. Masaomi after all was your personal guard.

Still, it wasn't the first time Sukuna had shouldered such expectations, you mused, recalling the countless instances over the past five years where he had fought tirelessly to uphold the honor of their clan. His relentless pursuit of victory had earned him both admiration and outrageous envy from his peers, yet Ryomen Sukuna remained undeterred in his pursuit of his success.

As you gazed down at Sukuna, a swell of pride surged within you. Despite the burdens he bore and the challenges he faced, he remained steadfast in his commitment to their clan and to you. You marveled at his resilience, you always have. At the unwavering strength that lay beneath his weary exterior. Somehow, you like to think your love for him can only grow from here. Your heart pounded against your chest as you let your love for him flow within you.

In the tranquility of the garden, surrounded by the beauty of nature, you found yourself overwhelmed by a wave of gratitude for the bond they shared. Sukuna had been your constant companion throughout their youth, a source of comfort and support in times of need. This tender love out of it all provides you nothing but strength. Together, you and he could only navigate the intricacies of clan politics, weathered the storms of uncertainty. Hand in hand, you think you came out better for it. But they only did it together. It was all easy, because you had each other. You knew he felt the same, that he would say the same.

As you continued to stroke Sukuna's hair, a soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips. Despite the challenges that lay ahead, you knew that they would face them together, united in purpose and resolve. With Sukuna by your side, you felt invincible, ready to take on whatever trials awaited them in the days to come. He would never disappoint you in all your life— he would never let you face the world alone.

Sukuna lay with his head nestled in your lap, his eyes fixed on the dancing reflections on the surface of the water. Despite the peaceful surroundings, a furrow creased his brow, betraying the turmoil brewing beneath his calm exterior. Sukuna closed his eyes once more, trying to return to the peace he had before.

You watched him with a mixture of concern and affection, her fingers tracing soothing patterns through his jaw. With a gentle, exasperated sigh, Ryomen Sukuna stirred, his eyes fluttering open to meet You's gaze. There was a warmth in his eyes as much as there were storms.

"Are you alright, Sukuna?" you asked softly, your voice a gentle melody that seemed to blend seamlessly with the symphony of nature around them.

Sukuna grunted in response, a faint scowl marring his features as he shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm fine," he muttered, though the tension in his body spoke volumes. “Trust me.”

You couldn't shake the feeling that Sukuna was hiding something, despite his dismissive words. You watched him closely, your concern growing with each passing moment. There was a tension in his demeanor that you couldn't ignore, a subtle shift in his usual confident demeanor that set you on edge.

With a gentle poke to his cheek, you couldn’t help but teasingly attempt to draw him out, to coax him into opening up about whatever was troubling him. Sukuna had never minded how playful you were with him. In fact, your giddiness about it pleased him. But perhaps not in this case. Sukuna huffed in response, his frustration evident, but he remained tight-lipped.

"You don't seem fine," You persisted, your tone gentle yet insistent. You studied his face intently, searching for any clue as to what might be weighing on his mind. "What's with you, my love? You can tell me."

“There’s nothing. I’m fine. I'll reassure you.”

Sukuna's response was a terse repetition of his earlier assertion that everything was fine, but you could hear the strain in his voice, the underlying tension that belied his words. You sighed at his thick refusal.

"You know, the more you say that, the more suspicious you seem," you remarked, your brows furrowing in concern. "Whatever it is, we can face it together. You don't have to carry the burden alone. Spit it out, stubborn boy.”

Sukuna groaned slightly in response, a mixture of frustration and resignation coloring his tone. Despite his reluctance to confide in you, he knew that you would remain determined to stand by his side, to offer him the support and comfort he needed in times of uncertainty. You reached out, taking his hand in your own and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"We'll figure this out together, Sukuna," you said softly, your gaze unwavering. "I promise. But I won’t know what to do to help if you don’t tell me.”

Sukuna sighed heavily, sitting up beside you and running a hand through his fuschia hair in frustration. "Fine, since you won't drop it," he grumbled, his tone resigned. He looked at you for a moment and finally spoke, "I heard news about the clans nearing their arrival. They’ll be here soon.”

As you pondered Sukuna's demeanor, she couldn't shake the feeling that his unease ran deeper than the mere anticipation of the upcoming clan visit. You were keenly attuned to the intricate web of clan relations, sensing the subtle shifts and undercurrents that shaped your world.

In recent times, Sukuna's growing power had propelled the Ryomen clan into the spotlight, to heights never seen before in any previous lord’s lifetime. This fame had started earning them both admiration and animosity. But you were certain that such animosity was festering faster than such admiration. The status quo was after all finally being questioned.

The Ryomen clan was often referred to in less than flattering terms by their peers, with Sukuna himself bearing the brunt of much of the criticism. Sukuna could care less about such whispers. He could hardly care if people thought that he was worth talking about or not.

But you were concerned, still. That was most normal when you love someone. You were no stranger to the disparaging whispers and sideways glances that followed in their wake. Being the only female heir of the clans does prepare one for such a thing. In the eyes of many, she was little more than a mere pawn, a figurehead to be manipulated and controlled. The men of other clans, in particular, harbored a deep-seated resentment towards her, their disdain fueled by antiquated notions of gender and power.

For you, such treatment had long been a bitter reality, one you had grown accustomed to over the years. But in your eyes, the questioning of Sukuna’s reputation was much more concerning. Even with the Ryomen name, he was still without the blood. As equally as he was concerned with your reputation, you were concerned about how they looked down on his common birth.

The derogatory nicknames that circulated among their peers served as a constant reminder of the prejudice and bigotry that pervaded their world. Last year's incident, where Sukuna had lashed out at a servant for using a derogatory term to describe you and him. He would not say what he had heard from the servant till now, he had kept it to himself. But for him to resort to such violence, it was not one he took to favorably.

This event had only served to exacerbate tensions further. It was sheer luck that the man Sukuna had chastised was only a servant and not one with noble blood. It was easier also that the servant served under the Gojo. Suzaku had dealt with it on his own. Sukuna had not been pleased with that, but you were.

In a way, you understood Sukuna’s concerns. He did not think that he would want to return to any further gatherings with the other clans. It was more of a headache than anything else. You could never harbor any feelings against what Sukuna felt. Despite your own resilience, you couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration at the injustice of it all. A Ryomen was taught to suffer in silence. But you wished there was a time where you could express your own sufferings, to complain.

You had worked tirelessly to prove herself worthy of your position, to earn the respect. Even if you had known nothing from your brother’s own work, you had worked tirelessly to learn. To do well. To serve well. And yet, you knew that in the eyes of many, you would always be seen as nothing more than "the damsel and your hound."

Or if they would like to be blunt, ‘the whore and your hound’.

There were many more names that you perhaps did not know.

And truly, you perhaps would not want to know all of them.

"That's to be expected," you replied calmly, your voice laced with understanding. "But I have a feeling there's something else bothering you."

Sukuna glanced at his lover for a moment. His expression softened slightly at her perceptiveness. "You're…..right," he admitted reluctantly, his gaze drifting to the shimmering surface of the pond. "Our fathers are talking about arranging marriages for the two of us.”

Your eyes widened slightly. You knew you were bound to hear about it again one of these days. But you couldn’t help but be surprised. Sukuna too? Uncle Hiramu knew about her and Sukuna. He had not introduced Sukuna upon the list of eligible bachelors in these many years since Sukuna had grown of age. He said it was up to his adoptive son to do what he wanted. You have to wonder where Sukuna had heard of this. You felt a flicker of concern flashing across your features as you processed the news.

"I see," she murmured, understanding the weight of such a decision. "That must be difficult for you to hear."

Sukuna nodded, his jaw tightening with tension as he wrestled with his emotions. "I have no interest in being tied down by some arranged marriage to some pathetic damsel." he snickered.

“Sukuna, that is unpleasant to say to other women.”

“I don’t care about other women.” He says brazenly, pursing his lips at her. “Are we not already together? Shouldn’t that be enough to spur out such ridiculous notions?”

You opened your lips, but closed them for a moment. “I–I don’t know. Father is the last word upon any sort of marriage. So is your father.”

Sukuna frowned. “He would not deny you the pleasure of a happy marriage, surely? Being married to that wench—”

“Sukuna—”

“That broad—”

“That broad is still my mother.”

He snickers back. “That woman still earned my ire. Of all of our ire. For sucking the life out of every room she deems to enter.”

“That woman may make everyone miserable….but her misery upon others has kept the peace.” You sighed, looking at him and taking his hand. “It’s expected for me to make the same sacrifice.”

“You’re all too willing to settle for a foolish man who’s half hearted and dim-witted? One that could not even protect you? Unlike me?” Sukuna looked at her with a flash of disappointment. “Fuck duty. You don’t have to suffer a terrible husband.”

“Sukuna, you must understand, they will make us explain—”

Sukuna's response was initially sharp, his frustration bubbling to the surface in a surge of aggression. "Damn it. Why should we have to explain ourselves to them?" he snapped, his voice laced with bitterness. "We don't owe them anything. None of them have ever given us anything.”

But as he saw the flicker of hurt and surprise in your eyes, his anger ebbed away, replaced by a pang of remorse. "I'm sorry," he muttered, his tone softer now, his gaze averted. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just…all this talk of politics and marriage alliances. This is not what we should have. We already chose what we wanted. And I….I want to wed you. To give you the life you deserve. The love you deserve.”

You reached out, gently cupping his cheek with your hand. "I know," you reassured him, your voice gentle and forgiving. "I understand. I know you would never hurt me."

“I nearly could have.”

You shake your head. “But you didn’t. Clear your mind of the notion.”

“.....It’s not easy to do.”

With a small smile, you leaned in closer, pressing your lips against his in a tender kiss. "No matter what happens, I'll love no one in this world but you," you whispered against his lips, your words filled with unwavering devotion. “You are my love.”

Sukuna's cheeks flushed at your declaration, his heart swelling with warmth. "You're too easy with this," he whispers back. “It’s embarrassing. How much you affect me.”

“This is love,” you whispered softly, your voice barely above a breath as you looked up at him, your eyes reflecting the moonlight streaming through the window.

Sukuna's gaze met yours, his expression tender and filled with understanding. In that moment, he leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. It was a kiss filled with warmth and reassurance, a silent promise that you were not alone in your struggles.

As the kiss deepened, you felt a surge of affection and gratitude welling up within you. This connection, this shared moment of intimacy, was a testament to the bond you shared with Sukuna—a bond forged through countless trials and triumphs, and strengthened by unwavering support and unconditional love.

You giggled softly against his lips, savoring the sweetness of the moment, before kissing him once more. In his arms, surrounded by love and warmth, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, united in your love for each other.

But as he leaned for another kiss, you pushed him away.

He frowns as you settle yourself straight on your position.

He looked towards where you were looking and frowned deeper.

Mikoto Masaomi's arrival was met with a courteous nod from you, your demeanor composed and gracious despite the interruption. Sukuna's reaction, however, was less welcoming. His eyes narrowed with a bitter edge as he regarded the man before him. He had never liked Mikoto Masaomi, sensing an unspoken rivalry between them that simmered just beneath the surface.

The bow offered by Mikoto was met with a cool gaze from Sukuna, his expression betraying his distrust. He couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort that washed over him whenever Mikoto was near you. It wasn't just jealousy, though there was an element of that too. It was something deeper, a primal instinct that urged him to keep a watchful eye on the man who seemed to hover ever closer to your side.

Despite his misgivings, Sukuna maintained a facade of civility, his lips curved into a tight, obviously, forced smile as he acknowledged Mikoto's presence. But beneath the surface, his resentment simmered, a silent warning to anyone who dared encroach upon his territory. You, too, sensed the tension in the air. Your gaze flickers between the two men with a mixture of concern and wariness.

“Good day, Masaomi–dono.” You smile at him, moving slightly near Masaomi. Sukuna nearly caught your hand, but turned away. “How have you been?”

“Well, Hiromi–sama.” He replies simply, a small fond look was in his eyes. “I am pleased to know you are also well.”

“What have you come to me for, Masaomi–dono?”

"The Gojo clan has started arriving through the gates," he informed you, his eyes darting to Sukuna. It's as though he knew. Sukuna’s eyes grew even narrower. The jealousy in Sukuna’s chest. “Your father, my lord, has asked me to fetch the two of you to attend the formal greeting.”

“I see.” You nodded. “We will be there in a bit. You may go, Masaomi–dono.”

You thanked him with a nod, your smile fading as the weight of responsibility settled upon you once more. Sukuna, too, felt a sense of annoyance at the intrusion, his brief respite with you now shattered.

Mikoto Masaomi inclined his head in acknowledgment of your words before turning on his heel and departing, his departure leaving behind an uneasy tension in the air. Sukuna's gaze followed him until he disappeared from view, his jaw clenched with a simmering anger that threatened to boil over.

As the silence stretched between them, you reached out, placing a comforting hand on Sukuna's arm. You could feel the tension radiating from him, the palpable frustration that colored his every movement. Despite your own reservations about Mikoto, you knew that now was not the time to dwell on such matters.

"We should go," You said softly, yourvoice a soothing balm against the storm of emotions brewing within Sukuna. "Our fathers are waiting for us, and it wouldn't do to keep them waiting."

Sukuna looks at you again. “Must we? I do not want to greet that lecher–”

“You must, and kindly.” You playfully commanded him, your eyes looking at him tenderly. “Play nice, for me.”

Sukuna purses his lips. He cannot win. Not against you, not ever against the tenderness of your eyes for him. He hated it, how much control you had upon him. But what could he do? He loved you too much to leave you too. He sighed and then nodded curtly, his features softening slightly at your touch. With a resigned sigh, he pushed himself to his feet, offering you a hand to help you up. You smiled at him and took his hand.

Together, they made their way towards the torii gates, the weight of their respective burdens hanging heavy in the air between them. But as you walked side by side, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty.

You looked at him and smiled. His hand wrapped against your own, as though he knew. As though he knew you needed his strength. You grinned at him and lifted his hand to your lips, kissing the side of his thumb. He seemed satisfied by that as they parted hands.

No matter what challenges may they come across,

You knew that as long as they faced them together.

They would emerge to be stronger by the end of it all.

Because no matter what, they would always be together.

SUKUNA COULD ONLY WONDER HOW MUCH THEY POURED OUT FOR THIS. The Ryomen manor stood as a testament to opulence and grandeur, its halls adorned with the trappings of wealth and power. Every corner of the estate was meticulously decorated, from the ornate tapestries that hung from the walls to the shimmering chandeliers that cast a soft, golden glow over the proceedings.

Sukuna couldn't help but scoff at the extravagance, the ostentatious display of wealth and power that seemed to permeate every inch of the estate. Expensive tapestries hung from the walls, depicting scenes of battles won and enemies vanquished, while ornate chandeliers bathed the halls in a soft, golden glow.

For you, the lavish display was a source of frustration and disdain. You had always been vocal about your opposition to the extravagant spending that such events entailed. In your eyes, it was a needless waste of resources, a squandering of funds that could be better used elsewhere. As your Ryomen ancestors had taught, simplicity was the way of one’s life — for wealth cannot be brought upon man’s judgment in the afterlife.

Sukuna, too, shared his master's sentiments. As your loyal servant and guardian, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the excessive displays of wealth that surrounded them. He had always been more comfortable with simplicity and practicality, finding little joy in the ostentatious displays of the upper echelons of society.

Despite their misgivings, however, there was little they could do to change the course of events. The unity games were a time-honored tradition, a chance for the rival clans to come together and become allies. A chance for allies to prove their loyalty to another. But most of all, a chance to showcase their strength and skill. And so, reluctantly, you and Sukuna found yourselves swept up in the whirlwind of activity, their reservations pushed aside in favor of duty and obligation.

As Sukuna effortlessly bested opponent after opponent in the individual rounds of curse hunting, he couldn't help but feel a growing sense of disdain for the proceedings. The other sorcerers seemed like mere amateurs compared to him, their techniques lacking in both power and finesse. With each victory, his boredom deepened, his frustration mounting at the thought of wasting his time on such trivial pursuits.

The thrill of battle, the exhilarating rush of combat that he so craved, was conspicuously absent in these tame encounters. Instead of facing worthy adversaries who could test his skills to their limits, Sukuna found himself locked in battle with opponents who posed little challenge, their feeble attempts at defense crumbling before his overwhelming might.

As he effortlessly dodged their attacks and countered with devastating precision, Sukuna couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he was wasting his time. The individual rounds of curse hunting had become nothing more than a monotonous chore, a tiresome exercise in futility that did little to sate his hunger for true combat.

With each passing round, Sukuna's impatience grew, his frustration boiling over into simmering resentment. He longed for the thrill of a real challenge, for an opponent who could push him to his limits and force him to unleash the full extent of his power. But amidst the sea of mediocrity that surrounded him, such adversaries were nowhere to be found.

As the day wore on and the individual rounds drew to a close, Sukuna found himself growing increasingly restless. He yearned for the freedom of the open battlefield, for the chaos and carnage of a true fight to the death. But for now, he would have to content himself with the hollow victory of a cursed technique mastered and an opponent defeated.

In the moments of respite between rounds, Sukuna retreated to the secluded grounds of the Ryomen manor, seeking solace amidst the tranquil beauty of nature. He stalked away from the prying eyes of spectators and competitors alike and he immersed himself in the relentless pursuit of perfection, honing his cursed technique with a singular focus that bordered on obsession.

You, ever attuned to his needs, would often seek him out in these private moments, your presence a comforting balm amidst the chaos of the unity games. You dressed lovely for him. As Sukuna held you close, his heart swelled with adoration as he gazed upon you. In the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window, you looked ethereal, like a celestial being descended from the heavens above.

Your delicate features were accentuated by the gentle light, casting a luminous glow upon your skin. The intricate folds of your decorations upon your garments draped gracefully around you, each layer adding to the mesmerizing allure of your presence. The fabric shimmered with subtle patterns and hues, reflecting the soft hues of the moon, as if woven from strands of stardust and dreams.

Your hair, adorned with delicate ornaments and flowers, cascaded in ebony waves down your back, framing your face like a halo of midnight silk. Each movement sent ripples of light dancing across the room, casting enchanting shadows upon the tent walls.

But it was your eyes that captivated him the most, pools of liquid darkness that held the depths of the universe within them. In their depths, he saw galaxies swirling, stars twinkling, and constellations unfolding—a reflection of the boundless beauty and wonder of the cosmos.

As Sukuna drank in the sight of you, he felt as though time itself had slowed, suspended in the timeless embrace of the night. In that moment, you were not just his beloved, but a vision of divine grace and celestial elegance, a muse that ignited the spark of creativity and wonder within his soul.

And as he held you close, he knew that he would cherish this moment for eternity, a cherished memory to be treasured in the depths of his heart forevermore. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close to you. Sukuna found himself momentarily lost in the warmth of her embrace, the softness of her touch a welcome distraction from the rigors of combat. Your compliments filled his ears with the sweetest things.

Though the time together was brief, you wanted to visit him and cheer him on. In that short amount of time, you rejuvenated Sukuna's spirit, infusing him with a reward for his devotion. He cherished these stolen moments of intimacy, relishing the fleeting sense of closeness that the both of you shared.

But even as he reveled in your presence, Sukuna couldn't shake the lingering sense of unease that gnawed at the edges of his consciousness. He knew that their forbidden romance could never be openly acknowledged, that the consequences of discovery could be dire for your reputation. He could hardly care for what everyone else says behind his back. But he does care about what others say to you.

You couldn’t help but pout as you reluctantly bid him farewell, your bright beaming cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he pressed a kiss upon your temple. Sukuna couldn't help but admire your beauty in the soft glow of the beautiful morning sun. How did he find such a gem in the world? You seemed to radiate an otherworldly allure that left him breathless with longing.

"I wish you could stay longer," Sukuna murmured, his voice tinged with longing as he held your hand close to his. “You ought to warm me with you.”

You smiled sadly, your eyes betraying the same yearning that echoed in Sukuna's heart. "I do too," you admitted softly, fingers lingering on his arm. How warm you were, he will never get tired how you warm his cold world. "But we can't risk drawing attention to ourselves. It's better this way, for now.”

Sukuna nodded, though the weight of their clandestine relationship hung heavy between them. "I know," he conceded, his tone heavy with resignation. "But it doesn't make it any easier."

Your smile faltered slightly, your gaze clouded with tenderness. "Oh, my love, I know." you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper. "But we have to be patient. Our time will come, I promise."

Sukuna's heart swelled with a mixture of gratitude and determination at your words. "I'll hold you to that," he vowed, his eyes locking with your eyes full of affection. “I’ll see you soon.”

You smiled. “I’ll see you.”

A wistful sigh leaves his lips, Sukuna watches you depart, a pang of regret tugging at his heart. Though their time together was fleeting, the memory of your kisses lingered on his lips, a potent reminder of the forbidden love that bound them together in secret.

But most of the time, he was alone with his thoughts. He cannot handle the bustling of servants, nor the nagging of his adoptive father. And so, he maintains a quiet time alone for himself when you have become increasingly occupied with duty. It was during one of these moments of solitude that he overheard a group of men talking nearby. Judging by the crest on their kimono — they were Fujiwara, a fact that only served to fuel Sukuna's disdain.

Sukuna listened intently as the voices of the Fujiwara men carried through the air, their conversation laced with arrogance and disdain. His lips curled into a sneer of contempt as he recognized the distinctive crest adorning their attire, a symbol of the very clan that had long been a thorn in the side of the Ryomen.

"They say the Ryomen girl is to take a husband this year," one of the men remarked, his tone filled with a sense of superiority. “I’m quite impressed how high the name remains high on the match maker’s list!”

Sukuna's blood boiled at the mention of your name, your honor in such a context, his fists clenched at his sides in barely contained fury. He bristled at the audacity of these men, their callous words serving as a stark reminder of the prejudices and injustices that permeated the world of sorcery.

"But who would want to marry the bitch?" another voice chimed in, eliciting a round of mocking laughter from the group. "The bitch’s nothing but a cruel murderer of men."

Another man, perhaps emboldened by the laughter, added, "I heard the whore once killed a man just for looking at her the wrong way. Who would want to be tied to such a beast?"

One of the stupid fools bolted into boisterous hooting. “Killed a man? The whore is ever so lucky to have some suitors. No one should be tied to such a brutish whore.”

The other one of these stupid brutes, emboldened by the laughter of his companions, continued, "You may think the bitch is powerful, but if I marry and bed the bitch, I'll make sure that bitch keeps silent. Nothing more than being nothing more than a tool, bent to my will."

The cruel words pushed Sukuna to the brink, his body trembling with the effort of restraining himself. The image of your serene face, your unwavering trust in him, kept him from unleashing the full extent of his wrath. With a sharp exhale, Sukuna forced himself to relax, the tension draining from his body as he made a conscious effort to quell the storm of emotions raging within him. He may have harbored a burning desire for revenge, but he would not let it consume him, not when your safety and happiness hung in the balance.

"The bitch needs a strong hand to guide and rule, someone like me.” another man sneered. "Put the collar upon that bitch.”

"Imagine the power one could wield with that bitch within one of our control," the first man mused, his voice dripping with ambition. "A conquest of the jujutsu world would be imminent. But we must ensure that bitch breaks first.”

The more they talked, the more Sukuna felt like he was going to lose it. It struck Sukuna over and over like a physical blow, his anger flaring into white-hot rage at the disparagement of the person he held deepest in his being. His mind raced with violent thoughts, visions of vengeance dancing tantalizingly at the edges of his consciousness.

But then, your voice echoed in his mind, a soothing balm to his simmering fury.

"Don't," you whispered, your gentle tone a stark contrast to the storm raging within him. "It's not worth it. They are not worth it.”

Sukuna gritted his teeth against the overwhelming urge to lash out, his muscles coiling with tension as he fought to rein in his emotions. It was always you guiding him, even when you weren't around. Even if he hated it, Sukuna knew you were right, knew that succumbing to his rage would only bring them more trouble. More so, if he defeats them now — the clan would suffer more issues with the Fujiwara. Sukuna could care less about these spineless fools. But it would be different for you

With a sharp exhale over and over, even if it doesn’t work — Ryomen Sukuna forced himself to relax, the tension draining from his body as he made a conscious effort to quell the storm of emotions raging within him. He may have harbored a burning desire for revenge, but he would not let it consume him, not when your safety and happiness hung in the balance.

As he tried to steady himself, The sorcerer retreated further into the shadows, his heart heavy with the weight of his unspoken vow. No matter the obstacles they faced, he swore to protect you, to shield you from the cruelty of the world, even if it meant sacrificing his own desires for the sake of your well-being.

Sooner or later, they will end up paying for their words.

He will not let them get away with tarnishing you.

One way or another, it will be the cleave or a cutting slash.

RYOMEN SUKUNA PURSED HIS LIPS IN A FLAT LINE, LOOKING AT HIS THE COURTYARD. Sukuna considered himself fortunate to have the luxury of choosing his opponents. In a world where battles often come unbidden and enemies strike without warning, he relished the rare freedom to select his adversaries. This autonomy allowed him to seek out the most formidable challengers, ensuring that each fight would test his limits and provide a thrill worthy of his power.

To Sukuna, combat was more than mere survival or dominance—it was an art form, a dance of death that required a worthy partner. He took pride in his ability to discern who was truly deserving of facing him, who could push him to his fullest potential. The chance to pick his battles meant he could avoid the mundane and mediocre, focusing only on those who offered a true challenge.

In the quiet moments before a fight, Sukuna often reflected on this privilege. He knew that many warriors never had such a choice, forced to fight whoever fate threw in their path. But he, Sukuna, stood above them, wielding the power not just to conquer, but to choose his conquests. This freedom was a testament to his strength and a source of immense satisfaction, reminding him that he was not merely a participant in the eternal struggle for power—he was its master.

He stepped toward the courtyard of the Ryomen manor and looked upon the crowd. It was a spectacle of unparalleled grandeur, a testament to the clan's status and influence. Every corner of the expansive space was adorned with elaborate decorations that spoke of meticulous care and significant investment. The Ryomen double heron flies above, bright against all the other clan’s banners. His win was a result of that, for which he had too much pride about.

Silk banners, bearing the insignias of the various clans, fluttered lower, ever so gently in the breeze, their vibrant colors catching the light of the midday sun. Intricate tapestries depicting historic battles and legendary sorcerers draped the walls, adding a sense of reverence and tradition to the atmosphere.

Flower arrangements, meticulously crafted with seasonal blooms, punctuated the courtyard, their colors and fragrances mingling to create an intoxicating ambiance. Each floral display was a work of art, with blossoms arranged in harmonious patterns that drew the eye and invited admiration. Pathways of polished stone meandered through the courtyard, leading to various observation points and seating areas where the dignitaries and clan members could comfortably view the matches.

Large, ornate lanterns hung from intricately carved wooden posts, their delicate designs casting intricate shadows on the ground below. These lanterns would be lit as the sun set, casting a warm, inviting glow over the proceedings and adding to the magical atmosphere of the event. The air buzzed with anticipation, a palpable energy that surged through the crowd as they awaited the commencement of the individual matches.

The assembled sorcerers, dressed in their finest ceremonial attire, engaged in hushed conversations, their voices creating a low hum that underscored the gravity of the occasion. The younger juniors of the clan could feel their eyes wide with excitement and curiosity, whispering among themselves, speculating on the outcomes of the matches and the prowess of the competitors.

You sat poised alongside your uncle and your father, perched in a place of honor that overlooked the arena. Though your demeanor projected an air of tranquility and control, your true sentiments were veiled beneath a carefully crafted facade. Despite your efforts to maintain a stoic composure, the affection you tenderly harbored for Sukuna simmered just beneath the surface, evident to those who were attuned to your subtle cues.

From your elevated vantage point, you could survey the unfolding spectacle with a serene gaze one after another. Your eyes, alight with a quiet intensity, traced the movements of the combatants below. While her features remained composed, betraying little of her inner turmoil, the warmth emanating from her gaze spoke volumes.

As Sukuna crossed the threshold into the ring, a palpable aura of determination enveloped him. His steely gaze swept across the gathered spectators, momentarily lingering on the familiar countenance of you. In that fleeting exchange, an unspoken bond passed between them, a silent pact that fortified Sukuna's resolve and served as a constant reminder of the personal stakes he carried into the impending clash.

Opposite him, Fujiwara Koku stood with an air of arrogance that bordered on insolence, his smirk a blatant display of confidence. He remembered this ugly face quite clearly. His words of degradation towards you repeating in Sukuna’s head over and over.

Sukuna's jaw clenched imperceptibly at the sight, his disdain for his adversary simmering beneath his cool exterior. While Koku exuded an air of self-assurance, Sukuna's demeanor remained inscrutable, a mask of detachment concealing the seething intensity of his emotions. He hated Fujiwara. The gall, the arrogance — with nothing to show for it but a power that was collapsing on its own hubris.

As the signal to commence the match echoed through the arena, tension crackled in the air like electricity. Each step taken by Sukuna reverberated with purpose, a silent declaration of his unwavering determination. Across the ring, Koku mirrored his opponent's movements with a predatory grace, anticipation gleaming in his eyes. In that charged moment, the clash of wills between Sukuna and Koku became inevitable, a collision of personal vendettas and unyielding resolve set to unfold in the unforgiving arena of combat.

As the gyōji announced the start of the match, Koku sneered, "Do you really think you can stand against me, foolish little hound?"

Sukuna remained silent, his eyes narrowing as he focused on his opponent.

Koku's expression twisted into one of mock pity. "I suppose your master, your bitch. Look at your master, little dog. You will be watching. Perhaps I should go easy on that bitch’s little pet."

As the confrontation escalated, the air crackled with tension, each heartbeat echoing like a drumbeat in the stillness of the night. Without preamble or hesitation, Fujiwara Koku unleashed the full fury of his power, a torrent of fire and brimstone hurtling towards Sukuna with deadly precision.

The first fireball erupted from Koku's outstretched palm, a searing orb of crimson flame that streaked through the darkness like a comet on a collision course. Sukuna's senses sharpened as he watched the fiery projectile hurtle towards him, his instincts honed from all these years kicking in with ease.

With a dancer's grace and a warrior's precision, Sukuna sprang into action, his movements fluid and seamless as he evaded the onslaught of fireballs with effortless agility. Each step was a calculated maneuver, each twist and turn a testament to his mastery of combat. The home crowd cheered with vigor at the spectacle of their kin.

The air around him shimmered with heat as the fireballs whizzed past, their searing heat leaving trails of scorched air in their wake. But Sukuna remained undeterred, his focus unwavering as he danced through the inferno unscathed. The flames were hot, but that’s all they were. They were nothing to him.

With each passing moment, Sukuna's movements became more fluid, more effortless, as if he were a force of nature unleashed upon the world. His footwork was impeccable, his timing impeccable, as he anticipated each strike with uncanny accuracy.

As the barrage continued, Sukuna seemed to meld with the rhythm of the chaos around him. Each leap, each twist, was executed with a precision that bordered on preternatural. His body moved with a fluidity that belied the danger that surrounded him, as if he were an extension of the very elements he danced amidst.

With each passing moment, Sukuna's senses heightened, his awareness expanding to encompass the entire battlefield. Every flicker of movement, every shift in the air, became a part of his consciousness, feeding into his instinctual understanding of the fight unfolding before him.

The fireballs came faster now, streaking through the night like shooting stars intent on obliterating their target. But Sukuna was no mere mortal; he was a master of combat, a living testament to the power of discipline and training.

With a graceful twist of his body, Sukuna evaded a particularly close call, the heat of the passing fireball licking at his heels as he danced out of harm's way. His movements were a symphony of motion, each step a carefully orchestrated note in the melody of battle.

And then, in a burst of speed and agility, Sukuna closed the distance between himself and his adversary, his blade flashing in the moonlight as he struck with lethal precision. The clash of steel rang out like thunder in the night, a testament to the ferocity of their duel.

"Impressive, little pet. But is that all you've got?" Koku taunted, summoning a larger flame. "Let's see how you handle this!"

Sukuna's lips curled into a contemptuous smirk, a silent retort to Koku's taunts. His focus remained unbroken, his movements fluid and precise as he deftly evaded each incoming fireball with calculated ease. Though Koku's attacks were fierce, Sukuna's resolve did not falter. He remains unshaken, his determination burning like a steady flame amidst the chaos of battle.

With a graceful flourish, Sukuna countered Koku's escalating assault, summoning his own inferno to meet the challenge head-on. The clash of fire and fury illuminated the arena in a dazzling display of power, each combatant vying for supremacy with unyielding resolve.

As the flames danced and flickered in the air, Sukuna's eyes blazed with an intensity that belied his calm exterior. With each passing moment, his confidence grew, fueled by the silent encouragement he sensed from You's unwavering gaze.

Koku's smirk faltered slightly, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty as he realized the depth of Sukuna's determination. Yet, true to his nature, he pressed on undeterred, channeling his rage into a relentless onslaught of attacks.

“I’ll fight you with your element.” Sukuna retorts to the man, a smirk on his face. “It’s getting dull, fighting with you. Is that all you have? Come on. We should mix it up.”

Koku’s face contorts in anger, an insult cutting through at his ego. The heir of the Fujiwara screamed as he harnessed massive flames. The heat could be felt everywhere, people screeched upon the feeling. Koku hurled the massive fireball at Sukuna, but Sukuna was ready. He smirks.

He muttered "Open," the echoes of his palms bouncing off flame against flame. Koku’s eyes widened at the sight. It was bright, orange flames with hints of reddish scarlet. Sukuna’s hands tamed the flames as he brushed them together.

The whispers of Sukuna’s fame were heavily focused upon his cutting and slashes techniques. Ones which were versatile in its own right. But a Ryomen does not content himself with what he is now. He adapts, he develops. He becomes divine.

The crowd goes in awe as his own Divine Flame countered Koku’s own bright flames. The flames clashed in a spectacular explosion, radiating against the veil one after the other. Koku looked pathetic as he tried to push against the fuschia haired man. But Sukuna snickered as he pushed, his superior control and intensity quickly overpowered Koku's attack, dissipating it into nothing. Koku falls back, his head lowered and his feet clutched onto the ground. He looks at Sukuna, who’s flames had disappeared at his command.

Seizing the moment, Sukuna closed the distance between them with lightning speed. Koku swung a flaming fist, aiming for Sukuna's head, but Sukuna ducked under the blow, his movements fluid and precise. He touched the ground, activating Spiderweb. The earth beneath Koku's feet cracked and shattered in an intense blow, the technique adjusting to the terrain's toughness and collapsing the ground in one decisive move.

Koku stumbled harshly once more, his balance disrupted by the sudden upheaval. Sukuna moved in with Cleave, the slashing attack adjusting itself to Koku's cursed technique. Sukuna was no longer giving him time to recover. One could see the elders of the Fujiwara rushing towards lord Isamu. The rest were standing, calling foul at what Sukuna was trying to do. But Sukuna did not see all that. What he saw was his prey and he was going to hunt. Strike after another towards his opponent was devastating, cutting through Koku's defenses and leaving a deep, gaping wound across his torso, his hands, his arms, even at his face.

"You... you'll pay for this," Koku gasped, blood seeping everywhere as he stumbled, feeling more blood spill through his fingers as he clutched his upper chest. He hissed from the pain. “YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS!”

"You're not even worth my time," Sukuna replied coldly, his voice devoid of emotion. He watches him cough more blood. But he did not care. Not even when you were standing off your seat, calling out to him, telling him to stop. “Get lost.”

Desperate to live, Fujiwara Koku summoned a massive fireball, his last-ditch effort to turn the tide of the battle. The crowd was yelling and cheering for Sukuna, to end the game. Many professed that he would end the round and win glory for the Ryomen. The cheering grew louder, but Sukuna could not hear them. He did not want to hear them. Sukuna was lost in over his head, for revenge now. He could care less about the glory.

This fool ran his mouth, had stepped on his clan and stepped on the person he loves. He will not let him get away with simple wounds. Sukuna was relentless. He quickly extended his hand, his Dismantle technique slicing through the fireball with ease. Koku's final attack disintegrated before it could even begin, before it could even try to reach Sukuna.

In a final, desperate move, Koku stood and screamed, pathetically charging at Sukuna, flames engulfing both his fists. Sukuna snickered and met him head-on, activating his Cleave once more. The attack was swift and lethal, cutting through Koku's fire and striking him down with a single, decisive blow. The pressure was so much from that hit, everyone could feel it. The sound, the wind, the air — all had changed course as Fujiwara Koku choked on his own blood and flew battered and broken upon the other side of the ring.

Koku's defeat was as swift as it was decisive, the once-arrogant heir to the Fujiwara clan now reduced to a fallen adversary, sprawled upon the unforgiving ground of the arena. The courtyard, once alive with the tumultuous energy of battle, now fell into an eerie silence, the onlookers rendered speechless by the spectacle unfolding before them. Soon enough, the cheers returned. But only the Gojo and the Ryomen cheered. Kamo, Zenin and Fujiwara all looked with horror as the heir of a prestigious clan, lay unresponsive.

Sukuna stood amidst the aftermath of his triumph, his chest rising and falling with the exertion of battle. He did not care to look back if Koku was dead or alive. It was a fair match, one he had won with his sorcery. He would not speak like that about you ever again. Despite the victory he had achieved, there was no hint of triumph in his demeanor, only a solemn acknowledgment of the price paid in pursuit of victory. He was not happy. He wanted more. He wanted more than this. All of them have to pay.

Amidst the hushed whispers and murmurs of the quiet crowd, you remained a steadfast presence, your wavering gaze fixed upon Sukuna. He watched as you shook your head at him, your eyes narrowed towards him. The warmth that had suffused your eyes earlier now mingled with a newfound complexity, reflecting the conflicting emotions swirling within your own heart. Sukuna felt unsettled by that. He thought you would feel a little more pride for what he had achieved.

It’s as if you knew something that Sukuna did not know.

Sukuna felt his glory drowned by the shadows in your eyes.

Fights broke out between the Ryomen and the Fujiwara that day.

You left the conference dinner that night in sheer, wordlessness.

The next few days, Hiramu Isamu looked at Sukuna bitterly.

Ryomen Hiromi was to wed Fujiwara Koku, to keep the peace.

IT HAD BEEN A ROUGH WEEK. The rest of the events had gone without your presence throughout, the withdrawal of the Fujiwara’s heir from all matches and Sukuna’s disqualification. It was quite somber after all of that. Much too much had been said behind the golden screens of the ancestral halls. Tears and brutish whispers and commands. But none had said anything. You ought not to. It was not an affair that belonged to you.

By the end of that week, the tension between You, the heir to the Ryomen clan, and Sukuna, your loyal follower, had become unbearable. It was quite a palpable undercurrent coursing through the entire clan. Lord Isamu and his brother Hiramu too were just as much in a battle of wills, but that was quite underwhelming to say the least. Lord Hiramu knew when to step away and let his brother settle in his inflamed words. He was after all like the water that flows in the river — strident in his own ways.

As the days passed without you emerging from your chambers, the atmosphere within the Ryomen compound grew increasingly strained. The unity games, meant to foster camaraderie and goodwill among the clans, had become marred by the rift between the Fujiwara and the Ryomen. But that was always one that had existed. One that all had been used to. What the rest of the Ryomen had not been used to was the distance between the heiress and her devoted guardian.

For Sukuna, the days of your seclusion felt like an eternity, each passing moment gnawing away at his patience and sanity. Despite his best efforts to understand the reasons behind your withdrawal, whispers from the shadows painted a different picture. The Fujiwara clan, incensed by Koku's defeat at Sukuna's hands, were exerting pressure on the Ryomen, leveraging their influence to force compliance with their demands.

Uncle Hiromu, ever the voice of reason, stood outside your chambers, attempting to bridge the gap between his adoptive son and his niece. But Sukuna's resolve remained unyielding, his need to see you eclipsing any semblance of diplomacy or compromise. He stared down the guards, all of whom whimpered at his dark gaze.

“It’s alright.” Your voice lingered for a moment. “Let him in.”

As he stood before you, Sukuna's emotions roiled beneath the surface, a tempest of anger and disbelief threatening to consume him whole. The weight of the Fujiwara's intimidation tactics bore down upon him like a suffocating blanket, fueling his determination to resist their tyranny at all costs.

Though your explanation of the marriage match was meant to placate the warring factions and maintain peace between the clans, Sukuna knew in his heart that it was a thinly veiled facade. The Fujiwara's ulterior motives lay bare before him, their insidious machinations driving a wedge between you and your true desires.

In the hushed confines of your chambers, Sukuna's gaze bore into you with an intensity that bordered on accusation. His features contorted with a potent mixture of frustration and despair, his silent plea for you to see reason echoing in the hollow recesses of your shared solitude.

But as the walls closed in around them, Sukuna knew that your fate hung precariously in the balance, and that the choices you made in the days to come would shape the course of your destinies in ways neither of you could yet comprehend.

"You accepted the marriage?" Sukuna's voice was barely above a whisper, laced with a seething undercurrent of fury. "After everything that happened, you just... agreed to it?"

You met Sukuna's gaze with a haunted expression, your eyes betraying the turmoil raging within your soul. "It was the only way," you murmured, your voice barely audible above the tumult of your thoughts. "The Fujiwara felt humiliated, Sukuna. They demanded retribution for what you did to Koku."

Sukuna's fists clenched at his sides, his rage simmering just beneath the surface. "You're telling me you agreed to marry that bastard because of their pride?" His words were a venomous accusation, a stark reminder of the betrayal he felt coursing through his veins.

But your response was tinged with a sorrow that cut deeper than any blade. "It's not just about their pride, Sukuna," you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of your confession. "I... I feel responsible for what happened. For the animosity between our families. As father does. If I can bear this burden, perhaps... Perhaps I can make amends."

Sukuna recoiled at your words, his disbelief warring with the anguish that threatened to consume him whole. "You blame yourself for his actions? Their actions? For the words he spoke, the pain he inflicted?" His voice cracked with emotion, his heartache laid bare for all to see. “You, you’re smart. You ought not to be stupid about this.”

Your gaze faltered, your resolve crumbling like fragile glass beneath the weight of Sukuna's accusation. "He... he talked about me?" Your voice was barely a whisper, your heart breaking anew at the realization of Koku's cruelty. You shook your head, defeated. “It does not matter…..he…he would be my lord husband.”

Sukuna's anger flared anew, his fists trembling with suppressed rage. "He belittled you, You. He wanted to hurt you, to break you. And you... you would willingly subject yourself to that misery?" His voice was laced with desperation, a plea for you to see reason amidst the chaos of your unraveling world.

But you shook your head, your tears flowing freely now, a torrent of anguish and regret. "It doesn't matter, Sukuna," you sobbed, your voice raw with emotion. "I must carry this burden, this guilt, this shame. For what he did, for what I failed to prevent."

A haunting flashback washed over you, the memory of your brother's death looming large in your mind's eye. You remembered the terror in his eyes, the desperation of his final moments as he faced off against those who sought to claim you. The weight of that guilt pressed down upon you, crushing you beneath its unbearable burden. But the aftermath, it was all coming back to you now. It was all coming back to you. A sinner can never forget. You must only atone.

The water around you began to swirl with a newfound energy, currents twisting and turning in a vortex that seemed to center on your very being. Suddenly, a surge of power flooded through you, intense and overwhelming. It felt as if the very essence of the river—the unyielding force of its currents, the depth of its secrets—was merging with your own spirit.

Your eyes, previously a soft tender shade, ignited with a vibrant purple hue, shining through the murky waters like twin beacons. This transformation marked the awakening of your cursed technique, a manifestation of your desire for vengeance infused with the river's ancient power. A god bestowed you favor and one that could never be escaped. Ryomen You felt the energy coursing through her veins, her head filling with burning sensations. Of the truth of the world, the anger of the world, the horror of the gods — Ryomen You was no longer just a child. You was a god’s warrior. A servant chained to the strings of a god’s whim.

As the power settled within you, the waters around you seemed to calm, and you found yourself gently deposited on the riverbank, gasping for air but alive. You lay there for a moment, drenched and exhausted, yet invigorated by a newfound strength. Your heart pounded with the pulsing reality of the power that now resided within you.

You stood, your clothes clinging to your skin, your every movement imbued with a sense of purpose. You looked at your hands, your gaze then shifting to the river that had nearly claimed your life but had instead given you a new path. The purple of your eyes was not just a mark of the power you had gained; it was a symbol of your vow, a vivid reminder of the path you had chosen.

And you knew what would happen.

There was no kindness nor doubt in your mind.

Ryomen You walked towards the burning camp.

One look towards the dead and the killers was enough.

You could feel the blood pouring down from your wrists.

“You will pay.” You whispered, turning to who noticed her.

“Who are you?”

“Your death.” Your purple eyes narrowed as you looked at her wrist, and raised it onto the air. You watched as it poured to the ground. You smiled at the murderer. “Heaven’s Bloom.”

You stood with an air of eerie calmness as the intricate spirit array spun around you, a mesmerizing dance of white and red light casting long, twisting shadows across the ground. The ambient glow pulsed with the rhythm of your heartbeat, each surge of light drawing forth the energy from the droplets of your own blood that had fallen in the formation of the array. Your purple eyes, alight with a fierce, unyielding resolve, followed the movements of the murderer who stumbled backward, his eyes wide with dawning terror.

The array's light coalesced into forms. It was the most grotesque thing you had ever seen. You watched as these snarling creatures wrought from the energy you commanded. Little by little, they grew angrier, they grew bitter. They grew ugly. Yet, they were manifestations of your will, each one a grotesque caricature of vengeance, one you felt in your heart. You could feel their forms shimmering with the same eerie luminescence of the array. They were your children, your blood. Your little monsters.

Yet they were born out of the heavens, the gods and their wills. They were holy beasts. The ugliest, most horrific of them all. None could deny how terrifying they are. How brutally cruel they are. Not even your newfound victim. Not even you yourself. The air was filled with the sound of their screeches, blood pouring out of their mouths like a languid fountain. It was a brutal cacophony that seemed almost triumphant as they sensed the fear emanating from their prey.

Your smile deepened, your expression one of dark satisfaction as you watched the murderer's feeble attempts to retreat. You think that if she laughed, that man would piss himself. There were more of him around, that she was certain. But he would be the first. You think that he was already too afraid that he would shat himself. His back hit against the cold, unyielding surface of the carriage — there was no further space to flee, no escape from the retribution he had brought upon himself.

With a voice as cold as the freezing night, You uttered a single command that sealed the fates of the murderer and his comrades. "Eat."

At your word, the creatures lunged forward with the most brutal force anyone had ever seen. Their movements were a blur, a violent cascade of light and shadow that pounced on the murderer and his group. One after another, the spraying of blood was all too much. Your kimono danced against blood and water. Blood was indeed thicker than water. But as they sprayed against you one after another, You did not mind it. You just watched, you just stood still and listened.

Screams pierced the night air, a terrible symphony of agony that played out under the uncaring gaze of the moon above. The creatures tore at the men with spectral claws and teeth, each attack brutal, relentless — not just physical assaults, but invasions of the very soul, rending spirit as well as flesh.

The chaos was brief, yet it stretched out like a lifetime of pain for those on the receiving end. You lived in that moment like it was forever. When the dead were claimed by the earth with the soiled thickness of blood, the creatures finally receded. You watched as they were drawn back into the fading light of the spirit array. You could not recognize the fools. There was nothing that remained of the murderers. But the young lady lived in the infinity of their echo of their echoing screams and the disjointed shadows of discarded flesh and bone that danced fitfully on the blood-stained ground.

Your heart beat steadily, a stark contrast to the violence that had just unfolded. You turned away from the carnage, your steps measured and purposeful. There was no joy in your actions any longer. Not even if you felt satisfied. There is only vain sorrow. Grief. Nothing was left, only the grim satisfaction of justice served — not through the law, but by the ancient, arcane arts that you had mastered and wielded with lethal precision.

As the night reclaimed its silence, Ryomen You felt exhausted. You felt drained. There was nothing left. Nothing of your past left. That night, it all burnt to ashes. And you too, disappeared into the darkness. Ryomen You became a sinner that night, a murderer even. But you did not care. It would never bring your brother back. You did not care.

"Leave me, Sukuna," you whispered, your voice barely audible amidst the chaos of your shattered world. Your fingers grip tightly to your lilac silks. "Leave me be, at least for now. Please.”

And as Sukuna stood before you, his heart heavy with the weight of your shared pain, he knew that your journey was far from over, and that the road ahead would be fraught with obstacles neither of you could yet foresee. But amidst the ashes of your shattered dreams, a glimmer of hope remained—a beacon of light that illuminated the darkness, guiding you ever onward towards an uncertain future.

Tears poured out from Ryomen You’s eyes.

The pain in your head echoed over and over again.

‘Don’t waste tears over decisions you made like this..’

You bit your lower lip as you could feel the voice of god.

‘Stand by your choices, stop being a foolish little one.’

HE HAD NO WAY TO SOOTHE HIS HEART ACHE. In the secluded sanctuary of the koi ponds, Sukuna sought respite from the tempestuous storm of emotions that churned relentlessly within him. Surrounded by the gentle rustle of leaves and the melodious trickle of water, he found himself drawn to the serene tranquility of his surroundings, each ripple upon the surface of the pond a reflection of the chaos raging within his own soul.

With each step you took along the worn stone pathway, Sukuna felt the weight of his grief pressing down upon him like an unbearable burden. The air hung heavy with the weight of unspoken words and fractured bonds, the silence broken only by the soft echo of your footsteps against the cool, smooth surface beneath him.

As you wandered aimlessly amidst the verdant foliage and graceful arc of the wooden bridges, Sukuna sought solace in the timeless beauty of nature, a silent witness to the tumultuous symphony of your innermost thoughts and emotions. Each breath you took seemed to draw you deeper into the heart of your turmoil, the tranquil facade of the koi ponds offering little sanctuary from the tempest that raged within.

Yet, amidst the chaos of your own making, Sukuna found a strange sense of peace in the rhythmic dance of the koi beneath the surface, their graceful movements a silent reminder of the ebb and flow of life itself. With each passing moment, he felt himself drawn ever closer to the heart of his own grief, the gentle embrace of the water offering solace where words could not.

Lonesomeness among the tranquil serenity of the koi ponds, Sukuna stood on the precipice of his own despair, his heart laid bare beneath the watchful gaze of the silent sentinels that danced upon the surface of the water. And though the path ahead remained shrouded in uncertainty, he knew that in the depths of his solitude, he would find the strength to weather the storm that raged within, and emerge anew, forged in the fires of his own turmoil.

The tranquil ambiance of the koi ponds was disrupted by the fading echoes of departing footsteps, leaving behind an unsettling stillness that seemed to swallow Sukuna whole. As the last remnants of the departing clans vanished into the distance, the weight of Sukuna's isolation settled heavily upon his shoulders, a tangible reminder of the chasm that had formed between him and You.

Lost in the labyrinth of his own thoughts, Sukuna was startled by the arrival of his adoptive father, Hiramu, whose presence cut through the suffocating silence like a beacon of light amidst the darkness. Wordlessly, the elder Ryomen settled beside him, his silent companionship a balm to Sukuna's wounded soul.

For a long while, they sat in contemplative silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. It was Hiramu who broke the silence first, his voice gentle yet firm as he sought to bridge the gap between them.

"Sukuna," he began gently, "I understand your pain. But you must also understand that You has a duty to uphold. As our lord, Isamu's choice for peace outweighs all else."

Sukuna's fists clenched at his sides, his anger and bitterness threatening to consume him whole. But despite his inner turmoil, he refused to meet his father's gaze, the tumult of emotions roiling within him rendering him speechless.

"What should I do then?" Sukuna's voice was barely above a whisper, a desperate plea for guidance in a world devoid of certainty.

Hiramu's words reverberated in Sukuna's mind like a relentless echo, each syllable a painful reminder of the sacrifices demanded by duty and loyalty. As he wrestled with the weight of his father's expectations, a sense of unease gnawed at the edges of his consciousness, threatening to unravel the fragile threads of his resolve.

"If you truly love You," Hiramu's voice echoed in Sukuna's ears, the gentle cadence of his words belying the weight of their implications. "Then you must serve her above all else."

The ache in Sukuna's chest deepened at his father's admonition, a bittersweet reminder of the love he harbored for You, a love tinged with equal parts longing and despair. For as much as he yearned to be by her side, to support her in her time of need, Sukuna couldn't shake the gnawing fear that his presence would only serve to deepen the chasm that had formed between them.

"You is alone in her burden," Hiramu continued, his voice a solemn decree that echoed in the silence of Sukuna's soul. "And it falls upon you to fill that void."

The weight of those words settled upon Sukuna like a suffocating shroud, the burden of responsibility pressing down upon him with unrelenting force. How could he, a mere mortal burdened with his own flaws and insecurities, hope to shoulder the weight of You's burdens? And yet, the thought of abandoning her to face her trials alone filled him with a sense of profound despair.

"One day," Hiramu's voice carried a note of quiet conviction, a promise of redemption amidst the chaos of Sukuna's fractured world. "You will be her right hand man, her staunchest ally."

But Sukuna couldn't help but wonder if that day would ever come—if he would ever be worthy of standing by You's side as her equal, her confidant, her friend. The thought of a future filled with uncertainty and doubt sent a shiver down his spine, a chill that seeped into the very marrow of his bones.

"But you must put her needs before your own," Hiramu's words cut through the fog of Sukuna's despair like a sharpened blade, a stark reminder of the sacrifices demanded by duty and obligation. "For the sake of our duty, our legacy."

With a heavy heart and a weary soul, Sukuna bowed his head in silent acquiescence, his resolve wavering beneath the weight of his father's expectations. For as much as he longed to defy fate and carve his own path forward, Sukuna knew that his duty to You, to their clan, to their legacy, was a burden he could never hope to escape. And so, with a heavy heart and a weary soul, Sukuna surrendered himself to the relentless tide of destiny, resigned to the anguished whispers of his own fractured heart.

Sukuna found himself engulfed in a sea of contemplation, each word uttered by his father echoing in the recesses of his mind like a resounding bell telling the truth. With each passing moment, a sense of clarity washed over him like a cleansing tide, stripping away the layers of doubt and uncertainty that had clouded his judgment.

As Sukuna grappled with the weight of his father's wisdom, a profound realization dawned upon him like a ray of sunlight piercing through the darkness. Hiramu was right—if he dared to admit it to himself.

Blood may indeed be thicker than water, but the bonds forged by duty and loyalty transcended the confines of mere familial ties. In the quiet solitude of his contemplation, Sukuna came to understand that belonging was not always about blood relations, but rather about the connections forged through shared experiences and unwavering loyalty.

With a heavy heart, Sukuna acknowledged that he had never truly known what it meant to belong before. Raised within the confines of the Ryomen clan, he had always felt like an outsider looking in, yearning for acceptance and validation amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces. But now, in the wake of his father's guidance, Sukuna realized that being a Ryomen was not just a matter of lineage—it was a testament to the strength of their bond, forged in the crucible of duty and obligation.

"You were all I have," Sukuna mused quietly to himself, the weight of his realization settling upon him like a comforting embrace. Despite the lingering sense of loneliness that had haunted him for so long, Sukuna knew that he was never truly alone. The Ryomen clan was his family, his home, his anchor amidst the tumultuous sea of uncertainty.

“You’re all I will ever have.” He now says out loud.

Ryomen Sukuna looked away from his father and sighed.

He didn’t know what to do, nor did he know where to go.

But he can’t see you and he’s certain, you don’t want to see him.

It would break your hearts more than ever, to seek each other out.

There was warmth in the water, the water was fine as he sought it.

Ryomen Sukuna wonders if he too will be able to feel fine once more.

fun facts about this chapter

this is the longest chapter i wrote and the longest one i took breaks in between for. its about 48 pages in my docu file and it took a week or so because of my school life. i really like it, though.

fujiwara akiko, really didn't love her children. she hates being married to hiramu. she paid more attention to akimu because his status as heir and how that gives her more power and influence. she looks down on hiromi and blames hiromi for akimu's death.

hiromi was found alone in the woods near the fujiwara's summer manor a few days after what happened. gojo suzaku was the one who found hiromi. it was noted that hiromi was the lone survivor.

hiromi's curse technique is called 'siphon of heaven'. her curse technique by nature is sacrificial, she has to offer up something to use it. hiromi's blood is often used. a god has four aspects of control - life, death, nature and the cosmic heavens. 'heaven's bloom' is a nature in between of life and death.

hiromi does not curse technique often. it takes more cursed energy than what is stored up. though hiromi has honed the techniques throughout the years, it is incomplete. with this purpose, hiromi focuses on using other forms of jujutsu including cursed weapons and aids.

prior having 'siphon of heaven', hiromi did have a developing cursed technique but it never manifested as it was overrided by the pact hiromi and the god made. from hiromi and onwards, only three had been users of the technique. hiromi, another clan leader and genmei, who is hiromi's descendant.

sukuna has yet to completely perfect and refine much of his techniques and he is obssessive over the need to be able to do it. hiromi doesn't think its healthy for him to push himself, but sukuna thinks that the only way he'll improve is if he devotes his time to it.

hiramu and sukuna's relationship as father and son isn't the most typical, but its warm enough that they call each other father and son. hiramu has pride over giving sukuna his name.

fujiwara koku is the same age as hiromi's older brother. he is the heir of the fujiwara, but he's mostly disliked by the rest of the clan. however, they are obliged to follow him by their loyalty to the fujiwara. his fire cursed technique is 'fire matter'.

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maliciousblog · 2 months

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Bully ( Jake )

Your life was relatively okay until your mom had to transfer jobs and you had to move along with her.

Moving to a different city didn't bother you as much as having to start over at a new school just the thought of having to start all over again didn't sit well with you and you didn't have much of a say in it.

So you just sighed and decided to unpack your stuff and settle in to your new home.

The first couple of weeks went without much trouble you managed to make a couple of friends the teachers adored you .

Things started to feel normal like you had gotten used to the change and started making happy memories in your new home.

About 2 months into the year you had your first big test you were determined to do your best at it. So you decided to go through as much material on the subjects as you could looking through the internet solving papers, the whole nine yards.

On one particular evening you decided to stay back and study in the library figuring you could concentrate better there.

You were currently trying to find a book to look up a particular topic but you didn't quiet seem to be able to find it and it was late at this point so you didn't want to bother the librarian.

Looking at your frazzled expression a figure approached you drawing you out of your search.

"Can I help you?"

You turned back to be met with a smile.

You had seen the boy around campus he was the student body president, scored the best grades and was a stellar athlete.

He always seemed kind to everyone so you didn't think twice before asking him to help you find the book to which he gladly obliged and even offered to help you study that way both of you could work together and it would be easier to finish since it was already getting pretty late.

You happily agreed and both of you went back to your spot.

You were surprised as to how quick he was to pick up on the areas you tought him about and likewise he was also a really good teacher and helped you when you didn't understand something.

Both of you worked really well together helping each other out so you decided to become study buddies and eventually became friends.

Both of you had been studying really hard together and the result of your first test came.

And to Jake's surprise you scored better than him. Needless to say he was happy for you seeing your face light up made him feel warm inside.

A couple of days later your second test result came and again you scored more than him.

He was still happy for you but he felt a slight tinge of jealousy brewing in him.

Another week passed and all your tests had been graded and in each one you stood on top of your class.

The little spec of jealousy that was in him grew to consume him.

How dare you take away the place that was rightfully his.

In his mind you were stealing what was for him by right and he wasn't having any of it.

He worked just as hard as you of not harder but why were you the one doing better than him.

He watched the teachers praise you. Those words of praise were meant to be for him not you.

He began to resent you.

First it started off by just giving you the cold shoulder during class.

You noticed him behaving differently towards you. Both of you were the best of friends now he barely even looked at you.

You felt a little hurt but you tried your best to talk to him.

But he just ignored you. It wasn't wise to further bother him so you just let him be for now.

Until one day you were at the library completing your notes when you felt a cool liquid flow down your head and onto your hand written notes making the ink bleed and destroying the hours worth of hard work you put in.

When you lifted your head you saw Jake with a grin stretched across his face looking down on you.

He leaned closer until your faces were only inches apart you could feel his breath tickle your face.

"That's what thief's like you deserve".

Was all he said before leaving you a sobbing mess in the library.

You left your stuff and ran home.

How could he be so cruel you thought he was your friend.

But that was just the start of it.

He kept torturing you at any chance he got.

Pushing you down the hallway, cutting up your clothes, slashing your tires he did things you couldn't even think of in your wildest of thoughts.

But what was worse was when he got into your head.

He was a smart guy and knew how to get into your little head.

He started to spread rumors about you.

He started to degrade you at any chance he got given his popularity everyone joined in on it.

Ruining you had become his obsession.

He was obsessed with the idea of reducing you into nothing but a broken doll.

Every day you were all that he thought about.

You had consumed him.

It no longer was his need to outperform you he just wanted you to be his.

You couldn't take it anymore.

You just wanted to run away.

The school year was coming to an end and you decided to transfer into a different school to get away from him.

Word of this got to him soon enough and he was shattered.

How could you leave him you belonged to him.

You were peacefully sleeping in hope of going away and leaving him behind.

What you didn't know was that, it was never going to happen.

He broke the lock of your backyard window and snuck into your room.

Seeing you lay there peacefully sleeping brought back a smile to his face.

He gently placed a damp cloth across your face making your body go limp.

As he tied you up and placed you in the back seat of his car.

You weren't going anywhere. You were his forever.

#dark #dark fic #kpop #yandere #yandere fic #yandere kpop #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #enhypen #jake enhypen #enhypen yandere #yandere jake #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen ff #horror #horror fiction

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lyney-s-bitch · 1 year

Note

I need the filthiest smut with kazuha- reader having her first time with him, and I just know under that pretty face hides a big corruption kink and since he knows his way around words some dirty talk too PLEASE

so many hoes for Kazuha here LMAO

I hope this does your request justice, it might not be as filthy as you might’ve wanted but I tried to keep it realistic as a first time!!

anyways, please enjoy~

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Kazuha x virgin fem s/o (nsfw)

• Kaedehara Kazuha is a man that knows many people, and even more people know him

• you’ve probably heard of him long before your first encounter, his own reputation and that of his clan preceding him

• but you had never cared much for such things, taking note of them but refusing to believe rumors until you’ve verified them with your own two eyes

• and this lone samurai was barely anything like the rumors had suggested: his stature rather small, his voice calm and soft like a spring breeze

• only the rumors of his immense talent and strength had not been off the mark, his every move invoking awe and admiration, in and outside of combat

• I can’t see him being interested in one-night stands or fwb, this man is the type to settle for nothing less than what he truly believes to be his soulmate

• despite seeming and actually being old-fashioned in some ways, he wouldn’t turn you down if you weren’t a virgin anymore

• he cannot change what lies in the past and would never judge you for it either, what happened before you’ve known him is none of his business (not in every way but you get my point)

• but when you tell him that you are in fact still a virgin, he would lie if he said it didn’t make a difference

• not in the way that he’d resent you if you weren’t, but I just know the thought of being each other’s first and last has an immense appeal to him

• needless to say, this gentle samurai is the king of consent

• he keeps making sure you’re okay with everything he does, taking his sweet time prepping you in every way he can think of and only going all the way when you yourself specifically request it

• he may be inexperienced, but he’s a fast learner due to his sharp observation skills, picking up on your every reaction and memorizing what movements, amounts of pressure and pace please you the most

• and when it actually comes down to it? he’ll be so drunk on the noises you make in combination with your facial expressions, it gives him an immense kick to know that he’s the only one to ever see you like this

• he feels slight guilt for feeling that way, knowing you’re currently in pain from getting stretched out by him

• it takes all of his willpower to not bust right then and there because he gets lost in the moment and the foreign feeling of being inside the love of his life, but pleasing you is his top priority and he’d be damned if he were to finish first and leave you unsatisfied

• he’ll stay still until you adjust to his girth and give him the okay to go deeper, and even then he won’t take his eyes off of your face to keep checking for any signs of discomfort or uncertainty

• but if you urge him to keep going, he’ll give you a small chuckle, one of his hands finding its way up to your cheek to gently wipe away a single tear gathered in the outer corner of your eye with his thumb

• "So pretty and so eager to get ruined by me… my beautiful angel…" he whispers in adoration, his voice trailing off towards the end

• once the pain in your core subsides, he can feel your tight walls slightly relax around him, allowing him to fully bottom out inside of you

• mans feels like he’s in heaven.

• he’s traveled around and seen a lot, but this?? he can’t possibly imagine a better feeling

• he’ll give a gentle, tentative roll of his hips, moaning softly at the feeling and his cock twitching as you do the same

• he’ll set a slow pace, fearful of cumming too quickly if he were to go any faster, he wants this to last as long as possible (the first time he can relate to Raiden’s dream of unchanging eternity LOL)

• it feels good for you as well and you’re definitely enjoying yourself, but it’s not quite enough to bring you close to the edge

• he picks up on that quickly, adjusting himself to be able to rub your clit with his skilled fingers in tandem with his slow thrusts

• he’ll experiment a bit until you tense up and briefly clench around him, signifying that he’s found your sweet spot

• the needy noises you make as he keeps hitting it repeatedly are music to his ears, he could swear it’s the sweetest melody he’s ever heard

• and knowing he’s the only one to ever hear it, past or future? to see you like this? slowly falling apart just for him? he for once feels like the luckiest man alive

• of course he knows the answer, yet he can’t resist asking "Tell me my love, does it feel good?"

• you yourself are way too overwhelmed by all these sensations and emotions to give a coherent answer, but that makes it all the better for Kazuha

• I want to say he’ll last insanely long, but he is just a man and this being his first time as well, I don’t think that’s the case

• however, this will by far not be the last time of the two of you having sex, so don’t worry, his stamina will keep building up over time

• but no matter how soon he cums, he will always make it up to you and will not rest until you’ve cum for him at least twice, repeatedly apologizing for not lasting all the way

• as if you’d mind lol, seeing this man lose himself inside of you while moaning your name is pure bliss in itself

• and oh does he make sure to have you lose yourself too

• Kazuha loves eating you out, and he will always do it like it’s his last meal, taking his time savoring and appreciating you

• he literally can’t get enough of you and tends to send you into overstimulation

• he can’t help it, he just loves when your quivering thighs squeeze crush his head, he loves the way your voice breaks as you try to tell him it’s too much, the way your eyes roll back as variations of his name he’s never heard before fall from your parted lips

• long story short: your first time with him will not be flawless but still perfect, and it no doubt leaves you needy for more

#my writing stuff #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin hcs #genshin writing #genshin x reader #genshin smut #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha #kazuha x reader

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eternal-kosmo-ghoul · 6 months

Text

*°:⋆ₓₒ day 15. praise kink

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡ “nice list”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — ❤︎ what a good pet you’ve been… and it looks like secondo has taken notice

pairing: papa secondo x gn!reader

a/n: think of it as a nice contrast to the spanking fic with terzo 🙏

cw: nsfw content. praise kink. pet names (?). sexual tension. secondo flirting. neck kissing. no actual sex happens. idk ahhh

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“you’ve been so well behaved as of lately.. i should treat you with something special tonight.” —❤︎

┅✦┅

you’ve always been a gentle, kind person.

always remained humble to your peers, and treated your superiors with respect and kindness. some may have called you a pure soul because of your constant kindness, sometimes a goody-two-shoes, but you’d rather remain respectful rather than resentful.

hell, you’d even go as far as to stay away from scandalous activity such as drinking, smoking, or anything that was sexual in nature. it was kind of ironic, considering you were living in a satanic church, surrounded by siblings and demons who constantly followed the narrative of going against standard christian rule— and by that they did anything that wasn’t chaste or pure in nature. you didn’t mind this kind of environment, if anything, it gave you a purpose within the ministry; to be the voice of reason and balance that the church desperately needed to continue running its operations.

that’s when papa emeritus ii, secondo, really started to take a liking to you.

he noticed your hard work. how you’d constantly look after the ghouls and make sure they didn’t tear each other apart. how you always assisted the siblings of sin with their chores, even if some of them gave you nasty attitudes. it’s something he didn’t see so often. why would such a gratifying person be willing to stay in a place such as this? he didn’t think someone like you could even last a day within the ministry.

but he was proven wrong multiple times.

secondo didn’t want this behavior to go unrewarded. no no no, you were probably one of the most loyal followers to date. you deserved some recognition for your hard work.

so that’s exactly what secondo did. right now, he was sitting in his office, tapping a pen against his desk rhythmically. he had called you to his office for a meeting, so now he was just awaiting for your presence, remaining as patient as ever.

right on the dime, the wooden door creaked open after several knocks sounded behind. you peaked your head into the small space, and secondo gave a warm smile, gesturing for you to come inside.

“don’t be shy, dearie. come on in.” secondo reassured. his sudden kindness caught you off guard. the emeritus was usually a lot more reserved, stoic and stern. so this was new.

needless to say, it was refreshing, and nice too. so you nodded and obliged. “oh yes— sorry about that.”

“no need to apologize.”

you closed the door behind you, and made your way to sit on the velvety seat that was positioned across from where secondo sat in his seat. you took a good look around his office. the fireplace was crackling with glowing embers to keep the place cozy and warm. old yule decorations strung up against the walls and ceiling to add a more welcoming feel to it. this kind of environment is truly something you wouldn’t expect from a man like secondo. he was such a commanding presence, you couldn’t help but feel intimidated by him from time to time. even now, it was a little suffocating to be around him.

the emeritus seemed to take notice of your nervousness, and he sighed, a small smile forming on his lips.

“please, don’t be afraid, angel. i promise i don’t bite.” secondo said with a light chuckle. your eyes widened, not realizing how easy it was to read your expression.

“s-sorry, i just got a little nervous.”

“again, no need to apologize. i’m used to people thinking i’m scary.”

a shocked expression took over your face, and you waved your hands to try and correct him. “ohh no no no that’s not what i—“

secondo just laughed at your reaction. “relax, honey. i’m just pulling your leg. no need to get all antsy over it.”

you paused for a moment, and let out a sigh of relief, wiping off invisible sweat from your forehead. “oh thank satan.”

the two of you sat in the office for a brief silence. that was until you decided to break it.

“so… why did you call me to your office? i’m going to assume it’s for something important.”

secondo tilted his head at this, and put his cup down.

“right…” he hummed. “well, i wanted to bring you here for a variety of reasons, mainly regarding your behavior and work within the ministry.”

you gulped at the sound of this. were you in trouble? no, you couldn’t be. you did too much a of a good job to be.

secondo then continued.

“you’ve always exceeded above and beyond my expectations with your resilience. you live in a place of sin, yet you don’t give into temptation, which is… baffling, but noble. you keep your morale levelheaded, and use it to help aid the ghouls and other siblings of sin. and through it all, you’ve kept your kindhearted nature.” all of his words were filled with praise and admiration for your work. it truly touched your heart. you weren’t expecting it, but it was… lovely.

“i… i don’t know what to say other than.. thank you.” you spoke bashfully, truly pleased by the recognition of your efforts.

“my pleasure.” he smiled. “a little birdie also told me that you’re preparing gifts for all of your peers for this year’s christmas. is that right?”

you nodded at this. “yes i am.”

secondo nodded. he got up from his seat and slowly walked around his desk to approach you. you yourself remained seated.

“hmmm.. and no one is getting you a gift, i assume?”

your heart skipped a bit from this. “well… i don’t mind. as long as my other peers are getting presents then—“

he cut you off before you could speak further.

“no no no. that just won’t do. you do a lot for our family, you deserve something in return.” secondo said with a more low, smooth voice. his body made its way behind the chair you were sitting on, and his hands moved to gently grip your shoulders.

the sudden contact made you gasp, but the warmth of his hands felt nice on your body. he then leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“you’ve been so good, doll face. you surely deserve more than what you get.” he whispered huskily, being sure to rub your shoulders in a way that had you squirming and panting. “and you deserve it all too, deserve praise and support for what you do… ohh i’ll be sure to give it to you.”

you tried to speak up, but secondo’s sudden flirty behavior made your voice sound meek. “s-secondo—“

“tell you what.” he started. “your gift from me will be some nice, old fashioned… loving. to show you how appreciated you are within this ministry, by me.”

your breath hitched. you could feel secondo nipping at your neck with soft, tender kisses, occasionally sucking on the skin. you sighed heavenly.

“you’ve been so well behaved as of lately.. i should treat you with something special tonight.”

“i.. i-i just..”

you couldn’t get the words out. you were too stunned. his touches were delicate to the core, and you felt like you were on cloud nine from each time he kissed your neck, you even tilted your head upwards to give him more room.

“don’t worry, baby. i’ll make sure you feel real good.” secondo smirked, still kissing your neck. as he did so, his hands slithered down to move under your shirt, resting his hands right underneath your chest and on your ribcage.

“so… how about it? you want me to give you my extra special christmas gift? as my gratitude for all of your hard work?”

damn. you couldn’t just say no. when would you ever get an oppylike this again? not in a million years

you whimpered and spoke. “please.”

he smirked. “now that’s what i like to hear.”

and he slowly started to slip your shirt off.

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#holiday hoes event #secondo #secondo x reader #papa secondo #secondo smut #papa secondo smut #papa emeritus smut #papa emeritus ii x reader #ghost bc x reader #ghost bc smut #smutty drabble #christmas prompts #christmas

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rottenpumpkin13 · 1 year

Text

GENESIS RHAPSODOS HEADCANONS

[these are my headcanons, meaning the way I view him in my head and may not follow popular fanon]

↘︎ Genesis was trained in fencing as a child. This was his introduction to sword-fighting and what ignited his proficiency in swordsmanship—of course this is also the root cause of why his sword is modeled after a rapier.

↘︎ He was obligated to study Latin, old Banoran, and Mideelese when he was a boy and is proficient in all three, though sadly not completely fluent in any.

↘︎ He has a golden singing voice and makes sure everybody knows. He had started learning to play the piano as a young boy but that was cut short when he enlisted in the army.

↘︎ He still has his favorite stuffed animal from childhood, a plush phoenix named Braeburn. It’s a little worn and its fabric is matted but it’s still locked away somewhere in his closet

↘︎ Genesis is a total apple snob, frequently being rather arrogant in his opinions—e.g.: he thinks gala apples are atrocious.

↘︎ He claims to only listen to classical pieces and musical soundtracks, but anyone who knows him IRL knows how big of a lie that is. Genesis is obsessed with the band LOVELESS and can turn into a complete metalhead when he’s in a fiery mood. He’s also big into trashy pop music. Big.

↘︎ His childhood endeavors included participating in musicals and other performances, seeing as he did theatre in late childhood. He was also encouraged by his parents to enter various competitions. The trophies can still be found on his desk in the Banora mines.

↘︎ As I kind of teased here, Genesis’s parents are—contrary to popular belief—pretty decent people. Angeal would describe them as ‘eccentric rich people’ while Genesis would regard them as having no filter whatsoever. They’re Genesis’s #1 fans and love to boast about his achievements.

↘︎ Genesis’s mother and Gillian call him Genny, and he endures it seething with rage.

↘︎ Genesis’s relationship with his parents became strained in his teen years but mellowed out once he reached adulthood. His parents are the primary Banora White and Banora White juice exporters in Banora.

↘︎ Genesis can cook. How did he learn? By spending too much time around Gillian Hewley as a child, leading him to pick up the basics. And of course, he’s a big reader so he can follow a recipe—oftentimes challenging himself to cook complicated dishes. Genesis can bake, although he rarely has the patience to, and his specialties include Banora White apple pie and apple tart.

↘︎ Amongst his many pet peeves, his primary ones include seeing his name misspelled and not being the center of attention

↘︎ He’s sometimes invited to model and do photo ops for famous designers, something he’s immensely praised for due to his attractive features.

↘︎ Genesis isn’t scared of insects and certain animals like rats, so much as he’s grossed out by them. Having said that, he will scream.

↘︎ People who’ve met him say he smells like apples, cinnamon, and expensive cologne

↘︎ He’s a social butterfly and has friends in multiple departments at ShinRa. He often uses this as a ruse to get out of doing work. Lazard is tired of sending awkward 3rd classes to go fetch Genesis from the General Affairs floor, where they find him gossiping. Needless to say, his eternal best friends are Angeal and Sephiroth.

↘︎ Genesis also has many friends in the theatre industry and regularly supports smaller shows, and sometimes appears on podcasts.

↘︎ As much as he and Sephiroth fight and argue, they both know it’s purely for entertainment and would never deliberately hurt each other. Angeal gets a kick out of making them hug it out after every argument

↘︎ Genesis would never openly admit the jealousy and resentment he harbors toward Sephiroth, but he would also never reveal the respect he has for him. Genesis loves to buy Sephiroth childish knick-knacks, candy, and other stuff he knows Sephiroth never got to experience.

↘︎ Genesis himself has no filter and will openly insult and demean people in the name of being “honest.” He’s also a serial gossiper and will even go out of his way to create rumors to feed the mill at ShinRa.

↘︎ His first kiss was with a girl from Banora village. He kissed her under the large Dumbapple tree on his family’s property. Afterward, he got curious and kissed her twin brother in the very same spot.

↘︎ He avoids the sun like the plague in the summer for fear of his freckles resurfacing.

↘︎ He has a series of writing WIPs he never finishes and never will finish due to his dissatisfaction with his own writing.

↘︎ He refers to Angeal and Sephiroth as Angela and Sophia for laughs. He shuts up quickly when they call him Genevieve though.

↘︎ If you see him wearing sunglasses at 7 AM indoors, there’s a 97.8% chance he’s hiding the dark circles he acquired after staying up the whole night reading. Bonus points if he has overpriced coffee in his hands.

↘︎ He’s actually fiercely protective over Zack and Cloud, who he affectionately calls Puppy and Baby Chocobo. He would never admit this, of course, and whenever he sees the pair he goes “Oh, Goddess, the children are here.”

↘︎ Contrary to popular belief, he does hand in his paperwork and mission reports on time. Goddess forbid he’s outbested by Sephiroth in that department and seen as anything other than the perfect SOLDIER.

#ff7 #ffvii #ffvii crisis core #genesis rhapsodos #genesis rhapsodos headcanons #final fantasy #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #angeal hewley #cloud strife #zack fair #headcanon #crisis core #headcanons

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pinkroseblooms · 5 months

Text

Bizarre Love Triangle

Kumatani Mitsuo/f!Reader/Usahara Tobikichi in a love triangle; since Usahara has more experience with dating he knows what's up but Kumatani is currently still in the dark about his own feelings. No real resolutions, just fluff and some angst and a My Best Friend's Wedding reference for funsies. Summary: For once Kumatani is the one oblivious and Usahara is all too aware of the dynamic that's developed between the three of you. Pining!Usahara, Obliviously Crushing!Kumatani, and Oblivious!Reader; let the needless drama begin! word count: 3.4k Playlist: I listened to a lot of Hot Freaks writing this and they deserve more attention (I also played Bizarre Love Triangle cover by Stabbing Westward on loop, hence the title :D ) Puppy Princess Write Me Letters Heartache I Want to Be Your Boyfriend End of the Night I Want You to Be My Daddy

Usahara sits to your left as Kumatani takes the seat to your right without really thinking about it. He’s noticed lately that keeps happening; when Kumatani and him started getting you to come out with them, you were still unfamiliar and it was natural for the two men to sit next to each other.

In a restaurant, a bar, the movies, or even just going over to one another’s places for food and conversation, Usahara gravitated to sitting next to his friend and vice versa. He isn’t able to recall when Kumatani started occupying the space next to you. Kumatani doesn’t make a big show of it, but Usahara has noticed, every single time. Ironic, considering how people categorize him as the oblivious one, and they had a point, but this is different.

Kumatani’s never even been on a date; obligatory mixers and being pressured into joining “not date” group events don’t count. As long as Usahara has known him, Kumatani’s been single and not ready to mingle.

“Careful.” Kumatani moves the pitcher of ice water out of your way as you reach for the sugar packets. “You’ll spill.”

“I saw it.” You roll your eyes with good humor, ripping open the packet with your teeth. “I’m not as clumsy as some people when I drink.”

“Who are you referring to, huh?” Usahara grabs the bowl of sugar packets away from your side of the table. “I resent that.”

“Yet you somehow knew she was talking about you.” Kumatani sips his water before pouring himself a cup of strong black coffee without any to add.

“Oh, don’t you want some cream?” You were just about to hand him the smaller pitcher next to the coffee pot. “I thought you didn’t like plain black coffee.”

“Not usually.”

The three of you had come from a bar a few minutes away, varying levels of buzzed and starving, having not realized the bar didn’t have much in the way of food before stopping in to drink the stress of the day away. Usahara remembered this diner was nearby enough to walk to and open late just for these occasions. He guesses a good amount of business came from drunk people out and about with limited options.

You had chosen a booth and the seat near the window; Kumatani had sat himself down next to you, leaving Usahara, once again, the odd man out.

“You guys suck. Always ganging up on me.” Usahara still feels pretty drunk; he’s not known for holding his liquor but even he recognizes tonight was too much. “I feel bad enough. Can you pass me the coffee?”

“I told you to pace yourself.” You sigh, but can’t help smile at his lopsided grin. “You’re so goofy; here, let me pour you a cup. If anyone’s going to spill something, it’s you…”

“Thanks.” Usahara grins wider as you take his mug, pour in a generous helping of hot coffee and stir in three sugars and a splash of cream without needing prompting. “You’re the best; you’d make a great wife.”

“I don’t know if being able to pour coffee translates to being wife material.” You laugh, snorting a little. “I didn’t even make it.”

“It’s more like something you’d do as an unpaid intern.” Kumatani remarks cynically, shooting Usahara a stern look. “I’d say be careful burning your tongue, but it might actually be an improvement.”

“Ugh, next time I’m only going out with her.” Usahara gratefully takes the mug from your hand, fingertips barely brushing against yours; the steam heats up his face and he blows over the coffee to cool it down some. “What should we do for food? I’m still kinda queasy.”

“Hm, they have a sample platter option.” You’re glancing over the menu, lips pressed together as you read the list. “I’m not super hungry though; Kumatani, if I get this do you want to share with me?”

“Sure.”

Usahara brings the mug back to his lips, wondering what his expression must be; Kumatani has scooted closer to your end of the bench, ostensibly to get a closer look at the platter you’re referring to, except he has his own menu, untouched and closed by his cup of coffee. You point out something and look over briefly with a smile in his direction, somehow missing the way Kumatani edges over until his shoulder all but touches yours. He’s glancing from the menu to your face, his own expression as blank as ever; Usahara might have believed everything was exactly the same as it had been last year. That was when you started working on the set as a script doctor after Amon had a particularly harrowing mental breakdown over ideas of the newest season. You actually worked more with Derekida and Furode directly, but had naturally gravitated to the cast members; you appreciated their input without demanding they do your job for you.

Usahara had thought you were cute before you spoke a word; he was beyond excited to have you join him and the other staff on work trips and after hours social hour. It was way more fun to chat with a cutie pie who laughed at his jokes, so when things progressed to a friendship outside of the job, Usahara didn’t have any complaints.

The three of you have a good thing going on. You’re both Usahara and Kumatani’s friend. Sometimes you go with Usahara to karaoke or leisurely rides on his motorcycle around the expanse of the oceanside roads and other days you go with Kumatani to watch a cheesy B movie or browse pet stores for cat treats. You’ve helped Usahara’s parents move a couch and treated Kumatani’s brother to snacks.

Usahara is almost completely certain Kumatani has no idea. He doesn’t seem to be cognizant of the way he instinctively goes to make sure you’re okay, almost tending to you, even though you don’t need it. Pulling you away from the traffic side of the walkway, asking if you got enough sleep when you’re yawning a lot, always offering unprompted advice and a sympathetic ear. If you were someone more like Hachita or even Iketeru, Usahara would understand the perpetual need to oversee you, like a magnetic pull. That’s just the type of person Kumatani is.

“You should have ordered the honey lemon tea.” You’re nudging Kumatani’s arm with your elbow. “Get it?”

“Uh huh.”

“Cause bears.”

“Yep.”

“Bears? Honey?” You smile at Usahara conspiratorially. “You get it, right?”

“I got it.” Usahara doesn’t want to laugh, but he can’t help it; you’re in a silly mood and it’s adorable. He’s not laughing at you; there’s a bubbling, tingling in his chest. It’s too much, he has to do something about it, and his gut says to laugh. “What should I order?”

“Carrot cake.”

Usahara doubles over and now you’re in hysterics too, giggling like a madwoman; you’re still buzzed and off balance, so you teeter to the side. As you place your hand over your mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound, your head rests lightly against Kumatani’s shoulder. The pleasant sensation in Usahara’s chest squeezes his heart painfully at the way Kumatani goes utterly still as you bury your face into his shoulder when you can’t force the giggles to stop. Usahara may as well cease to exist in this shared space; nothing else is visible in Kumatani’s field of vision. His jaw goes slack, his shoulders slump, and his eyes lose any trace of weary skepticism.

“You’re drunk.” Kumatani’s voice is strangely hushed; gently props you up and only looks away so he can top off your glass of water. “Go on, have some more water.”

“I will, thank you.” You wipe your eyes and obediently take the glass from Kumatani. “I’m not that drunk though.”

“You’re gonna have a nasty hangover and I’m the one who’s going to have to bring you breakfast because you’re too incapacitated to go grocery shopping.”

“I’ll do it.”

Both you and Kumatani look up suddenly in Usahara’s direction; it takes a second for him to realize how loudly he had spoken.

“We’ll both be dealing with some gnarly hangovers, so let’s grab a late breakfast together.” Usahara continues, undeterred by the embarrassment creeping up on him. “You wanted to try that crepe place, yeah?”

“Oh my gosh yes!” You say excitedly, practically shooting up on your seat. “Let’s do that! Whoever wakes up last pays!”

“Aw, no fair, you know I’m a heavy sleeper-”

“How would she know that?”

It’s Usahara’s turn to look taken aback: Kumatani isn’t giving him a death glare per say, but the look in his eyes has gone from soft and mushy to cold steel.

“This lightweight crashed at my place last week; I almost broke my back dragging him out of the road.” You explain casually as you fold your menu and place it on top of the table. “Does everyone know what they want?”

“Good question.” Usahara mumbles.

“We’re splitting the sample platter.” Kumatani puts his menu and yours together. “What about you?”

“Carrot cake.” Usahara winks at you, twitching his nose like a rabbit might.

You return his smile somewhat exasperated. “Be serious: you should eat something too. How about a sandwich? Or soup?”

“Soup is good.”

Usahara doubts he can handle anything heavier right now; his stomach is churning. Why do you have to be so sweet and funny and smart and perfect? And why did Kumatani have to be so dense? Usahara almost wants to clue him in, just so he can get this over with and you can put them both out of their misery.

But, what if you pick one of them? What if they both confess and you decide to choose one and the other person is left to be the third wheel? It’s possible that time will overtake both his and Kumatani’s silly, stupid crushes.

Except, this isn’t a crush anymore. Usahara might even be falling in love with you, the same woman one of his best friends is unknowingly, hopelessly fawning over. Staring at you, Kumatani looks more drunk than he has all night. It’s a shame: if Usahara wasn’t so terrified of Kumatani becoming self aware, he would be teasing him relentlessly.

By the time the late, late dinner is over, Usahara doesn’t feel much better; he spent an hour, sitting all by himself on the other end of the table, essentially forced to watch Kumatani fuss and you, drunkenly, foolishly, humoring him as Kumatani did everything short of hand feeding you. At one point a bit of sauce had smeared near the corner of your mouth; Usahara didn’t know how he managed to stop himself from sweeping all the plates to the floor and vaulting over the table when Kumatani took a napkin to dab at your mouth.

Once more, you’re in the middle, Kumatani and Usahara on either side, lagging behind you by a step or two. Usahara, with an unearned satisfaction, smiles at the way you sway a little from side to side, humming some melody over and over.

“Aw, I wanna do karaoke. Usahara? Can you do me a favor?”

You pout and look over your shoulder at Usahara with the biggest doe eyes, as though you need to even try to act cute to sway him into doing anything; his heart is throbbing against his rib cage. Yes, please, look at him, ask him for something, any little thing your brain can think up. Usahara needs you to look at him first. He knows Kumatani, the strong, quiet, reliable one, he’s the one who's boyfriend material, the guy you take home to meet your family and build a future with. Usahara’s the goofy buddy, cracking jokes and one liners, good company for a fun time and he’s eager to please.

Unlike Kumatani, Usahara is painfully aware of how he comes off and wouldn't be surprised in the least if you had him all figured out already. He scrambles to be at your beck and call, incessantly following you around like a lost puppy for scraps of attention and praise. It doesn’t matter if you’re asking for his opinion on a script or inquiring about a good spot for grilled meat; it’s an opportunity to prove something to you, to finally make something click in your head and somehow, realize he was always the one.

"Pick me." Usahara can't stop his own train of thought as you hesitate. You always make his mind go to mush like this. "Choose me. Let me make you happy."

“What’s up?” Usahara grins like it’s all some big joke but he could drown in those big eyes, melt against your pouting lips. “Your wish is my command.”

“What’s that band called? The one we heard on the radio yesterday on your bike?”

“Hot Freaks?”

“Yeah that’s it! Man, that was bugging me, I hate when I forget stuff like that. Thanks.”

“Sure thing.” Usahara doesn’t stop smiling. Pathetic. He’s so pathetic. “Weather’s supposed to be pretty decent tomorrow; want to go for a ride after breakfast? Lunch? Brunch?”

“Is it? Alright, I’m game.” You give him a knowing look. “No funny business, no driving like a maniac. You nearly gave me a heart attack last time when you-oh!”

“Hey!”

“Watch it!”

There doesn’t seem to be anything to trip over, but all the same, you had wobbled and lurched back. The only reason you’re not laying flat on your back and looking up at the starry sky is because Usahara and Kumatani had sprung into action; there’s two sets of hands on both your shoulders, steadying you so you can stand upright. There’s no telling who reached you first.

“Dammit, pay attention to where you’re walking.” Kumantani’s hand grips onto your shoulder, firm and assuring. “Do you need to lean on me?”

“I got her.” Usahara hasn’t let go of your shoulder and his other hand takes yours gently. “I can take her home with me; we are gonna hang out tomorrow anyway.”

“You’re drunk too; why don’t you go home and sleep it off?” Kumatani says pointedly. “I’ll make sure she’s alright.”

“Dude, she doesn’t need a babysitter.”

“I’m the one who’s the most sober, it makes sense if I take her back.”

“We’re closer to my place.”

“I don’t trust you!”

“What?” Usahara stares incredulously. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I-I didn’t mean, wait,” Kumatani looks just as taken aback by his outburst. “I’m only saying, you’ve been drinking a lot.”

“Uh, guys?” You look back and forth between them; your head's spinning. “Guys?”

“So that means I’d take her back to my place and…do what exactly?” Usahara could punch someone. “Take advantage of her?”

“I didn’t say that.” Kumatani shakes his head earnestly. “Look, I don’t know what got into me, okay? I’m sorry.”

Kumatani isn’t lying; Usahara knows it, but it doesn’t mean he’s any less pissed. What Kumatani actually meant by “I don’t trust you” is he doesn’t trust Usahara to be alone with you, not when he’s drunk and loose lipped and liable to say something to finally tip the scales in his favor. If Kumatani heads out and leaves the two of you alone now, will there be sparks? The line could finally be crossed and what could Kumatani do but be left to the wayside, the official third wheel, and it’s too little too late for him.

Usahara knows something of the sort is running through Kumatani’s racing mind, because that’s how he feels every time the three of you are together now.

“Forget it.” Usahara releases your arm. “You’re right, I’m really drunk; I can walk back to my place. You should take her home.”

“Hey, Usahara, Kumatani?” You speak up tentatively. “Is something…like, going on? You two have been acting off all night. Did something happen between you two?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Kumatani also retracts his hand, but stays close to you. “We’re tired, that’s all.”

“Cause seriously, I know Usahara; you don’t think he’d try to take advantage of a drunk girl, do you?” You ask Kumatani directly. “He’s your friend.”

“I know, that’s not it, I was just…I get overprotective sometimes. I had a few too many myself earlier.” Kumatani seems to shrink under your critical eye. “I went into big brother mode, I guess. I’m sorry.”

“Well, thanks, but you don’t need to apologize. I never have to worry about anything around you, Kumatani.” You tell him with a warm smile. “I know you don’t mean to overdo it; and anyway, it’s what I like about you.”

“Don’t oversell it.” Kumatani rubs the back of his neck. “Either way, I’d feel weird making you go home alone. Let us walk you back.”

“I appreciate you two looking out for me.” You say gratefully and pat Kumatani’s head. “You know, you’re like the big brother I always wanted, but tone it down a notch, alright? We’re all just hanging out having fun, right?”

“Yeah, right.”

Kumatani watches dumbly as you start walking once more, eyes forward this time to avoid any unexpected trips to the ground. He looks lost and Usahara can’t stop the pangs of sympathy that go out to his friend.

“Oh wow dude.” Usahara mutters, clapping a hand to Kumatani’s shoulder. “That’s rough.”

“Shut. Up.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There’s mostly silence on the way back to your apartment with occasional attempts on your end to get a conversation going again. After the exchanges of goodbyes and goodnights, Usahara and Kumatani wait at your door, making sure you get inside and lock it behind you. They stand outside your door for a few seconds before turning around.

“I need a freaking drink.”

“Want to get a nightcap?”

“Sure, whatever.” Kumatani’s expression softens. “Hey, I am sorry about earlier. I honestly didn’t mean it that way. I know you wouldn’t...”

“Yeah, I figured.” Usahara sighs. “Still, you thought we might end up doing something if it was just us alone.”

“I don’t know what I thought.”

“Dude, playing dumb is my thing.”

“You are dumb.”

Usahara smiles. “So, what do we do?”

“What do you mean?” Kumatani looks genuinely confused. “About drinks?”

“Ugh, man, you’re depressing me.” Usahara whines. “Just be straight with me: are you going to ask her out or not?”

Kumatani scowls. “None of your business.”

“Fine, be that way.” Usahara's smile falls. “Hypothetically, what if she decides to date one of us?”

“I doubt it.”

“I mean, you might be the cool one, but girls like a good sense of humor.” Usahara says lightly, folding his hands behind his head. “And you’re about as dry as seaweed paper.”

“Can you take anything seriously?”

“I’m serious about her.”

Usahara stops in his tracks; the bunny’s already out of the hutch. He’s never been one to bite his tongue and keep his thoughts to himself anyway.

“I’m pretty sure when I tell her, she’s gonna laugh in my face, but I don’t care. If there’s even a small chance, I’m going for it. She’s worth it.” Usahara frowns. “Are we going to be okay?”

Kumatani’s mouth is downturned, considering the question sincerely. After years of knowing each other, Usahara can’t name an instance where they’ve fought. Bickering, sure, and plenty of times where Kumatani’s wrath has been activated or Usahara’s been irritated, but it’s never gotten serious.

“I don’t think so.”

“You hesitated.”

“Well, what about you?” Kumatani asks defensively. “Are you going to cry if she starts dating someone?”

“...honestly?” Usahara chuckles sheepishly. “Probably. This really sucks.”

“No arguments there.” Kumatani concedes with a wry smile. “We have to be cool; we can’t count on Uramichi or Nekota to offer any sympathy about this, can we?”

“Yeah right; if she picks me, I’m going to rub it in your face.”

“I’m going to go back to her place right now and tell her that.”

“No! I’m sorry Kumatani, it was a joke, just a joke!”

“Hey, I like her too.”

“Uh,”

“I get it now.” Kumatani says quietly. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

Usahara’s stomach drops; this is exactly what he was dreading, but what is he going to do? Tell Kumatani to knock it off? Say “But I liked her first!” and call dibs? He feels childish enough; when Kumatani had so innocently put his hands on you to keep you propped upright, Usahara had to fight off another pesky impulse, this time to yank you into his arms and never let go.

“Took ya long enough.” Usahara yawns. “I changed my mind; I’m gonna go to bed so I can get up early.”

“Early?” Kumatani looks vaguely disbelieving. “You really don’t want to pay for breakfast, huh?”

“I’m paying either way.” Usahara shrugs. “Shouldn’t the guy pay on dates?”

Kumatani stands under the street light and Usahara can see the resolve in his gaze.

“Does she know it’s a date?”

“Call it a test run.” Usahara shrugs his shoulders again. “See you later, Kumatani.”

“Later.”

Kumatani nods stiffly; they walk away in opposite directions, satisfied to leave things on a tentative truce of sorts. Usahara knows he’s being a little sneaky, but he believes whatever happens, their friendship can survive the fall out. Ultimately the final decision is yours alone.

Until then, all's fair in love and war.

#life lessons with uramichi oniisan #big brother uramichi #uramichi oniisan #kumatani mitsuo #kumatani mitsuo x reader #usahara tobikichi #usahara tobikichi x reader #fem reader #x reader #reader insert #love triangle #jealousy #unrequited love #one shot #ao3 fanfic

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femmefurina · 7 months

Text

Genshin 4.2/Fontaine spoilers

While I did enjoy the character quest we got from Furina with the Little Oceanid play, I do really wish it had been different. I like that the quest showed a little of the Traveler's bad side in pressuring her into doing something she didn't want to do, but if the idea was to get her to realize her love of singing again then I can think of a better way to do it.

Here's a little 'what-if'. Out of worry for Furina's mental health, the traveler reminds her that now that she's free she can do anything - and go anywhere. She doesn't have to stay in Fontaine where some people still resent her. It takes some convincing, but the Traveler and Paimon eventually get her to agree to visit Liyue with them - for an Opera.

Furina loves operas, genuinely, and the traveler and Paimon suggest that maybe seeing different types of performances in a place very different from the site of her trauma all this time would do her some good. In fact, Yun Jin is performing soon and the pair have tickets.

Yun Jin, after meeting the three and getting a rundown on Furina's situation, is more than happy to give Furina an extra ticket. Furina is utterly enchanted by Liyue opera, and ends up chatting with Yun Jin after the show about the art of song - throwing technical buzzwords at each other which neither the traveler or Paimon completely understand.

Needless to say Yun Jin and Furina are going to be friends for life. But the Traveler has even more in mind to show her.

The group travels to Inazuma, where the traveler introduces Furina to Kamisato Ayaka. Ayaka, after hearing about Furina's story, immediately understands her. Although Ayaka is only human, she deeply resonates with the idea of having to wear a mask for the public every waking moment. Ayaka mentions how practicing martial arts helps her stay grounded in the moment and find peace in the turmoil, and teaches Furina some exercises in meditation while the group takes care of some issues around the city - with Furina observing how an elegant lady relates to and gets along with people, even those who might resent her for her station.

Finally, the group make their way to Sumeru where they meet Nilou. Nilou also makes an impression on Furina with her dances, and mentions that she and her group are practicing a new interpretive dance performance called 'The Little Oceanid'. Furina is immediately struck at just how well the character from the story mirrors her own story and offers to aid Nilou in creating her oceanid costume - because who better to know about oceanids than Furina?

When the group returns home to Fontaine, it's late at night and nobody is around, so Furina thanks the traveler for sticking with her through their time together and apologizes for being a bit of a stick in the mud. She then mentions that the final song of The Little Oceanid stood out to her, and since she memorized it, she'd like to give the Traveler a private performance of her interpretation of it. Cue beautiful cutscene.

Furina is confused to find that a Hydro vision has appeared before her, only to find that Neuvillette had been watching the group from afar, and he must have granted it to her. Tearfully, she resolves to continue travelling just like the Traveler does to learn about the arts of other lands, so that maybe one day she can take to the stage again - not as a character, but as herself.

#furina #genshin furina #genshin spoilers #minific?

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blood-and-pizza · 4 months

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Allow me to drop a Fazbear Estate lore bomb on y'all

Remember how I said Glamrock Bonnie's death was an accident in this AU? And that the company basically decided it wasn't worth spending the time and money to fix him, so they just replaced him with Monty?

Remember how I also said William Afton is retired and he's not supposed to be in the charge of Fazbear Entertainment anymore, but he kind of still is because he has influence over Elizabeth, his daughter and current CEO of the company?

Yeah, it was actually William's decision not to bring Glamrock Bonnie back.

The Glamrock animatronics and the Pizzaplex itself were mostly the brainchild of Michael Afton. William has always been jealous of his son's creativity, seeing it as a threat, holding it against him for pretty much Michael's entire life. For this reason, when William saw Michael's design for Glamrock Bonnie for the first time, it infuriated him. How DARE Michael take HIS character and warp it into... whatever the HELL that thing was!

So when Glamrock Bonnie was accidentally crushed into pieces by the Hurricane Bucket, William told Elizabeth to make the decision NOT to fix him, because FUCK Michael, and fuck anyone who thought that version of Bonnie was worthy of being attached to the Fazbear name.

None of the Glamrocks, not even Glamrock Freddy, know about William Afton's involvement in the decision to replace Bonnie with Monty. Michael only knows the truth because he is way too familiar with his father's bullshit, and he resents William for all the distress he caused for the animatronics.

I'd like to think that at some point, William attends a party at Fazbear Estate, gets a little too drunk, and accidentally reveals his involvement with the Glamrock Bonnie situation. Needless to say, NOBODY is happy with him after that.

#fnaf #fnaf au #fazbear estate au #william afton #glamrock bonnie #montgomery gator #michael afton #elizabeth afton #glamrock animatronics

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gerryrigged · 1 year

Note

👀 please tell me about the dicktim time travel

Gladly! :D

Okay so I forgot - this file actually has two separate ideas because I was trying to decide which one to actually develop.

Idea 1

A happy, healthy 25-yo Tim is dropped back in Gotham a couple of weeks after Red Robin first left the city.

He's a huge shock to a 24-yo Dick struggling with, among other things, the weight of the Bat mantle, grief over Bruce, frustration with Damian, and worry and guilt over his pissed-off, grief-stricken, unstable younger brother who hasn't answered any of his calls since Dick let him ride off to god knows where, to do god knows what.

This older Tim is so…warm. Calm. Steady. (Gorgeous.) He jokes and smiles at Dick without any shadows (the way Tim used to smile at him), and hugs him without hesitation, ignoring the way Dick stiffens up like a board before slowly, slowly melting into him. (Clutching at him.)

He brushes off Damian! Doesn't take his shit, but mostly seems amused by him. Wow. Dick can't even manage that most of the time, not yet.

He drives Dick crazy by refusing to tell him any spoilers about (a) what his 17-year-old self is up to, or (b) what any of their lives are like in the future. He won't even tell Dick his new vigilante name, even though Dick knows he has to have one!

He also shuts down Dick's halting apology for his own screw-ups with swift, excruciating kindness.

"Sorry, Dick, but no," the older Tim says, eyes soft but voice firm. "Tell this to him. The next time you see him."

Idea 2

Sort of an inverse of the above, actually. Red Robin!Tim has just passed out in the desert after being run through by the Widower. He wakes up in a comfortable bed (?), unharmed (???), being spooned by Dick (???????).

Needless to say, he thinks it's a dying hallucination - or maybe he's already dead? (Is this heaven? he thinks, tracing a finger down the muscles of Dick's forearm, wrapped firmly around his stomach.)

He's torn between his still simmering anger and resentment for Dick, and a sort of manic recklessness. This is obviously not real, so why shouldn't he turn around when this dream!Dick kisses his shoulder - why shouldn't he grab Dick and kiss him back - kiss him so hard he makes a delicious little 'mmph!' noise as he's pressed down into the mattress?

Why shouldn't he grip Dick's wrists too tight, bite the stupid tempting curve of his lower lip too aggressively - because Tim just died in the fucking desert. Right after finding proof that Bruce was alive.

He failed to save Bruce. Failed to keep his shit together, just like Dick transparently knew he would. Failed to come back to Dick, to prove him wrong for not believing Tim, for choosing someone else.

(If he kisses Dick hard enough, he can keep himself from breaking apart. Right? ...Right?)

Dick figures out immediately that something is Very Fucking Wrong with his husband :/

#dicktim #gerryrigged #gerry words #asks #OR -#what if I tried to weave these two together somehow #NO CLUE HOW AT THIS POINT but reading these over again they do seem...related #like it doesn't quite work as the Tims switching places #but hmmmmm #...more thinking required

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autumnrose11 · 8 months

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For ship ask: Mary/Matthew and Sybil/Tom

First of all, I would like to say a great big SORRY for answering this so late! I’ve finally got round to answering this.

So.......Mary/Matthew.

What made me ship it: Strangely, this question is difficult to answer because I don’t know where to begin. I suppose.... what made me really ship them in the first place was that they are so healthy, and both during their convoluted courtship and their married life, it’s so obvious that they respect each other. They bring out the best in each other. They complement each other and accept one another just the way they are, flaws and all. They enjoy each other’s company. They share the same sense of humour. Their love is unconditional, their chemistry explosive and unlike anything I’d ever seen before. Their adoration for one another is so beautifully GENUINE and believable. More than anything, though, I think I ship them because they made me believe for the first time in true love.

So all of those factors morphed together and made me fall hopelessly in love with them, both individually and as a couple :)

Favourite things about the ship: All of the things mentioned above, plus some other stuff. Such as the fact that when they do fight and argue, the fights are always, always healthy. They get into a furious argument and still get into bed with each other. They hold their love above everything. There’s also the fact that they can be emotionally vulnerable with each other. They are the only people who can access the other’s heart and they know the deepest core of each other. There’s such a deep level of intimacy they share which is so beautiful to watch. I love the way they work as a team, they are in a partnership together and they are really good friends who are so comfortable around each other. All of this in addition to being physically attracted and having spades of sexual chemistry. They can be silly and goofy around one another which is adorable! (MATTHEW’S BED FLOP. AGH. And Mary’s silly miming during charades in the S2CS. She looked so cute!)

Unpopular opinion I have about the ship: An unpopular opinion.... Hmmm. I don’t know if this counts, but.... I just think Lavinia should not have been killed off. She should have broken it off with Matthew, leave and marry a man whose heart was hers and hers alone. That’s the only sort-of unpopular opinion I have about this ship. Other than that, no.... I love everything about them, even the angst and heartbreak and pining and when they are both being idiots!

Now for Sybil and Tom.

What made me ship it: I think they’re interesting together, but no, I don’t think they’re a truly good couple.

Favourite things about the ship: I like that they overcome all odds to be together... the daughter of an earl marrying a chauffeur was, needless to say, a massive step down in society and I admire Sybil for having the guts to do it. I also like that (in the first season) they have a shared interest in politics and women’s rights and the way Tom encourages her :) Also, BABY SYBBIE. That moment between them after the baby was born was very sweet.

Unpopular opinions I have about the ship: Now for the unpopular opinions. I have a few. (To all the S/T shippers.... I’m really sorry, I don’t mean any offence :))

During S1, I liked them and I thought their slowly burgeoning love was cute and sweet. During S2, though... I didn’t care for them much. Much of the season was spent by Tom being a bit pushy, badgering Sybil and trying to convince her to run away with him, and on some occasions even putting her down, showing his resentment towards her family and acting like he knew better than her, which sort of rubbed me the wrong way. The adoration and tenderness was missing in S2.

I also got the feeling that Sybil didn’t fall in love with Tom for the person he was. While agreeing to marry him, she says, “I’m ready to travel..... and you’re my ticket.” It sounds like the only reason she married him was because she wanted a way out of her life, not because she genuinely cared for him as a person.

Plus, there’s the fact that compared to the other main developing couples on the show in the first three seasons (Matthew/Mary and Bates/Anna) Sybil and Tom are the couple that gets the least amount of screen time. They spend S1 being friends, with Tom slowly developing a crush on Sybil. They receive permission to marry near the end of S2. We don’t get to see their wedding. They briefly return in 3x01 for Mary’s wedding. They’re absent in 3x02 and play a minimal part in 3x03. 3x04 is completely overshadowed by Tom’s exile from Ireland. That’s the last episode they’re together before Sybil dies in 3x05. So we don’t get to see much of their married life, which is another reason why I couldn’t fully get behind them and ship them wholeheartedly.

Apologies once again for taking so long to answer this! :D

#ship asks #Matthew x Mary #Tom x Sybil #Matthew Crawley #Mary Crawley #Sybil Crawley #Tom Branson #Downton Abbey

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ninebluehearts · 1 year

Note

No idea if this has been done yet or not, but maybe Agent Whiskey with a single mom? Also love your work!

I'm gonna scream- THIS IS PERFECT ANON!!!

And thank you baby 🥺💗

Part 2 part 3

18+

-------------------------------------------------------

"Shit!" Your alarm blared throughout your bedroom, waking both you and your boyfriend. "You've gotta go!" You whisper yelled, pushing his shoulder before jumping up to gather his clothes from the night before.

Whiskey was only supposed to come over for a quick hook-up, but both of you were just so tired, and he was so warm.. Needless to say, you both fell asleep.

Madeline, your nine-year-old daughter, didn't know about Whiskey yet. You wanted to introduce them, but there just never seemed to be a good time.

Whiskey flopped over onto his back, letting out a loud yawn as he stretched. "Darlin', we've been together for almost a year now. Don't you think it would just be easier to tell her?"

"We've talked about this Jack. I just don't think she's ready." You threw his clothes at him, hurrying into your closet to get yourself dressed.

Your daughter had never really had a father figure before and you honestly didn't know how she'd feel about having one. And if things didn't work out between you and Whiskey and you had to take that away from her? You just couldn't risk it until you were sure this was going to work.

"Yeah, two months ago. Listen, from the sounds of it, she'd want you to be happy."

"Yes, and I want her to be happy. I don't want to force her to like my boyfriend just for the sake of my own happiness. My Mother pulled that shit and I still resent her for it."

Whiskey finished buckling his belt, now walking over to hug you from behind as you buttoned your jeans. "This is different. We're not forcing her to do anything. I just don't wanna sneak around anymore." Whiskey pressed his lips against your neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin. "I wanna hold you in the mornings, mamas."

You bit your lip to hold back your gasp, pressing back into him. "No marks Jack."

Whiskey hummed, his hand slowly moving down your navel. "That's another thing. I wanna start markin' you up; showin' people who you belong to."

You hated that he was right. You wanted him to be wrong, but with his sweet, husky accent rumbling so close to your ear, you could say yes to anything in that moment. "I-"

"Mom? We're gonna be late!" Madeline knocked on your door, jiggling the locked handle.

Your eyes shot open. "Shit!" You hurried over and opened the door, just enough for you to see one another. "Goodmorning baby! Listen, can you please throw some bread in the toaster for me? I promise I'll be right down."

Madeline nodded, pushing the door open wide enough so she could give you a hug, before making her way downstairs.

You shut the door with a sigh, relief flooding throughout your body.

"This is ridiculous." Whiskey mumbled, sitting on the edge of your bed before forcefully shoving his boots on.

You bit the nail on your thumb, trying to figure out a solution. "Alright, alright. What are you doing Saturday night?"

Whiskey raised his eyebrow. "Why? So, you can fuck me and then kick me out afterwards?"

"Okay, I deserve that." You walked over and sat next to him, reaching over to hold his hand. "It's Wednesday now. I promise that over the next few days I will tell Madeline about us, and then on Saturday we can all go out for dinner. Okay?"

"You promise? Because you've said that before.."

"Jack, her hamster died! I couldn't exactly tell her about you while she was mourning!"

"Fair enough." Whiskey said with a chuckle, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

"I promise. I'll tell her."

Whiskey nodded, leaning his forehead against yours. "It's gonna be okay. You know that, right?"

You took in a shaky breath, squeezing his hand. "I know."

"Good. Now, I do have to get to work and that little one's gotta get to school, so you should probably go.."

"Oh shit! You're right. Okay." You pressed a quick kiss to his lips, pulling away when you stood up. "Saturday?"

Whiskey nodded. "Saturday."

You walked over and unlocked your door. "I love you." You said, turning around to smile at him.

"I love you too darlin'. "

"Mom! I think the toaster's on fire!" Madeline called from the kitchen.

You shook your head. "Coming!" You blew Whiskey a kiss before running downstairs, leaving him to wait in your bedroom until you managed to get yourself and Madeline out the door.

It was going to be difficult, but Whiskey and Madeline would get along, right? Both of them seemed to be trouble makers so..

God help you.

#💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙thoughts #thanks for the ask!!#agent whiskey fanfiction #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x single mom reader #jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels fanfic #jack daniels x single mom reader #kingsmen #kingsmen golden circle #kingsmen golden circle fanficton #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal

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samobservessonic · 6 months

Text

Another tale from Mark Millar, this time opening with Tails coming across “Sonic trapped in a TV” and being tricked into letting him loose. Now, I’ve not read this story myself, but I immediately recognised that first image of whoever this fake Sonic is from around tumblr, so I assume it must be a somewhat decently-known story and therefore I’m looking forward to getting into it

One thing I like here is that they show the small animals working together to create a hideout free from Robotnik. It’s already been established that Sonic has a base somewhere, but seeing the others making one has me once again going “Ooh are we getting closer to the Freedom Fighters being established??” Anyway, as you can probably guess, fake Sonic turns up and smashes their work to the ground

My obligatory “Look, it’s Sally!” part. They even directly call her Sally here. She’s helping to put out the forest fire started by the fake Sonic

As you can probably imagine, the (somewhat wall-eyed) real Sonic shows up to put a stop to his name being tarnished. I mean, the easy joke to make here would be that StC Sonic is kind of an asshole anyway, but at least his actions are always good, even if his words aren’t. However, he’s not fast enough to stop the animal folk believing that he was the one who did the damage

Hey look, StC also did the “Sally banishing Sonic due to a misunderstanding” thing years before Archie did as well lol

…But that’s also dealt with on the same page, when the fake Sonic shows up. I can’t help but wonder how people would’ve reacted if that one plot in Archie had resolved with Sally going “Apology’s in the post, Sonic”. Actually, maybe they should’ve resolved The Slap by having Sally say that, too. Although having brought up The Slap, I'm honour-bound to add that everyone needs to get off Jon Gray’s case about The Slap, but I’m far from the first person to say that

Tails has figured out a way to get rid of this guy, by trapping him back in the TV. At which point, we get an explanation as to what this fake is - an Extra Life! Once again, StC taking something from the early games and putting a unique spin on it. In this universe, back when he was good, Dr. Kintobor made the power-ups to help Sonic. Kintobor probably didn’t intend for the extra lives to be sentient or to become resentful, though Perhaps there’s a peaceful way they can come to an understanding abou-

-Nope! Punt him into space!

And that’s the end of that! I looked it up because I was curious, but this is the only appearance of Extra Life in the series and I think that’s kind of a missed opportunity. Evil Sonic clones are hardly a rare concept in this franchise, though I think this might’ve been one of the first, at least outside of the games. But I’ve never seen it handled in this way before. It brings up questions about if there are lots of other Extra Lives, who all also have sentience, or if Extra Life was the only on in the StC world and he’s now been effectively dealt with His situation was incredibly fucked up and that had room to be explored, but because he was generically evil and destructive, the story rooted for getting rid of him in the fastest way possible. Given all the dimension and space-exploring that happens in StC later, there would’ve been loads of chances to revisit this early concept if they’d wanted to, but alas, it wasn’t to be

Needless to say, I really enjoyed this one and understand why it’s so popular! Admittedly, the last few issues have been kind of coasting for me - not bad per say, but also not grabbing my attention - but this one really was a lot of fun. And Sally got to be in it a lot, which I always like

My only gripe was that it seemed like they were setting Tails up to have a bigger role and I hoped he might finally be getting a chance to shine, but that wasn’t how it panned out this time. I suppose Tails has a long career of chasing Sonic’s shadow ahead of him in StC, but I can't help but want the kid to catch a break soon

#sam observes sonic #sonic the comic #stc issue 13 #sonic the hedgehog #extra life #miles tails prower #sally acorn

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girl-named-matty · 10 months

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Do Poppy next?^^

And I agree 100%, Imelda is very likely to like Sharp, even if she isn't good at his subject. They're both commited to their crafts/hobbies/interests, I think Imelda respects that in people ig and appreciate the effort/passion for something, Quidditch-related or not. Her liking may also be connected to her father's injury, she mentions him being taken his knees out during his school years; for her, Sharp may even be an inspirational figure? Injury doesn't stop him from brewing and furthermore, teaching about potion-making; Imelda's dad may still have passion for Quidditch. Something like, if these men couldn't be stopped by something as unexpcted and brutal as what they'd been through, then why should she ever stop trying to get better at what she genuenly loves and enjoy, the life wouldn't end after an event or two. Idk, I just like that hc very much.

Thank you so much for the kind words! I'm glad you're enjoying my hc's!

Random Poppy Sweeting headcanons by me!

Everyone’s favorite Hufflepuff!

Now to most people Hufflepuffs sort of fall under this stereotype and as much as Poppy does share similarities, she’s not the Hufflepuff stereotype.

Having grown up in a poacher family, she was exposed to the darker side of things from a younger age. So needless to say it was a big relief when she was able to go live with her Gran.

Like most Hufflepuff's she is very loyal.

But unlike the stereotype she is NOT a pushover. She holds her own in every situation. We all saw how she stood up to that bully in Beast’s class and how she literally took down poachers and so much more.

She’ll stand up for all of her friends no matter who she’s going up against.

She’s probably a half-blood

Her wand core is definitely made of unicorn hair.

As for her boggart, it’s probably something to do with Gran. Or possibly something with her becoming a poacher since that’s the last thing she would ever want to do.

I honestly don’t think she’s an only child. I think she’d have at least one older brother who became a poacher alongside their parents.

Her Gran is the reason why she loves animals so much and she’s made it her life journey to help animals in any situation.

Definitely could see her becoming a Magizoologist when she’s older after school.

Her favorite classes without a doubt are Beast’s Class and Herbology.

And alongside that, her favorite professors are Professor Howin and Professor Garlick. Both of those professors make her feel like she can achieve her goals and excel in the line of work she wants to get into.

She doesn’t often use attack spells, rather, she’ll use defensive spells and let the plants (Chomping cabbages, venomous tentacula, mandrakes, etc…) do all the real damage work for her. It makes her feel better about the situations since she doesn’t enjoy hurting people.

After her 5th year she became really good friends with some of the Centaurs in the Forbidden forest.

MC definitely takes her up to the Room of Requirement every once in a while to show her all the animals and to let her check up on Highwing.

I have a hard time believing she’d ever reunite with her family after school. After all there is a letter you can find with her parents expressing how glad they were she was finally gone.

Her resentment for her parents probably carried on into adulthood and it was something she had to work through but she’d never let her feelings and family background get in the way of her dream of helping animals in need.

At school she spends most of her time outside with the beasts.

She names every beast she comes across. No matter if it's big or small. She wants to remember them and let them have something special.

Sometimes it takes her a while to trust people but you have her trust, she’ll tell you anything and you have her complete loyalty.

As for her relationships with the other students. She’s definitely good friends with Adelaide Oaks as well as a few other Hufflepuff students.

She talks to Sebastian and Natty often, usually before classes start or maybe right after. But her best friends will always be the beasts.

She may be small but she has the biggest heart in all of Hogwarts.

Sorry this one was shorter than the others 💕

#hogwarts legacy #hl #Poppy sweeting #poppy sweeting fanfiction #poppy sweeting headcanons #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy headcanons #Hufflepuff #small but mighty

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